Son of A King
by Princess-Of-Hounds
Summary: AU Sequel to "A Marchwarden's Daughter". Coruwen, the Elven Lady who traveled with the Company of Thorin, decided to stay with the Dwarves of Erebor after the Battle of Five Armies. After many years, one begins to question who they are and what their life is to become. It is a question one has to answer through many trials of life, love, and sacrifice.
1. Chapter 1

_Bright Shine_

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Upon the horizon the sun's light came forth, bathing the Desolation of Smaug and skirt of Erebor in golden light. The battle had been won by the skin of the warriors' teeth. However, as Coruwen and the healers emerged from their tent answering the call of horses one could not help but feel a sense of dread lingering over the head of the warriors. Coruwen's heart tightened in concern when she saw Legolas ride up to her.

"What happened?" Coruwen asked. Legolas avoided her gaze, his grey eyes dark with grief. Worry bloomed in her heart as she took his hand, attempting to get words out of him. Her hand gripped his tightly, and as his gaze rose from the ground she caught the graveness in his fair face and grey eyes. "Legolas, tell me."

He shook his head. "I have not the heart to, my lady." He whispered.

Frustration lashed out in her as she snapped at him. "Tell me!" Pieces of her gold hair fell in her eyes, which were clouded by grief and dread. Her current state of mind was being ravaged by sadness' vice like grip on her heart and soul. Her knees buckled, swiping her world out from under her, but Legolas caught her in his arms. Her hands and body shook as she forced away tears. "Legolas, I beg of you, tell me…"

The prince raised his gaze upward, searching for an idea. Pity was hard on him as he looked down at his broken friend. He pulled her up, and felt her fingers lace at the base of his neck as she regained her footing. "Bring Faenaur with you," He whispered.

Her hands and small frame wracked with dreadful nerves; she was being claimed by a horrid sovereign. His gloved hands encompassed her shaking ones in an attempt to soothe her pain. Her blue eyes met his grey ones as she searched his face. Coruwen saw pity in his eyes, deeply etched pity. His true feelings were showing in his eyes for he was worried for his father.

"Faenaur, come!" Coruwen yelled over her shoulder. Faenaur cantered up to them, and tossed his head to the prince and lady in greeting. Legolas mounted the horse, and pulled Coruwen up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him, placing an ear on his back as he spurred the horse onward.

Before them stood a dark haired elf, one resembling Calenfaire a great deal in fact. He was dressed in silver armor with a dark green cloak upon his shoulders. His azure eyes narrowed when he saw the prince come riding up to him.

"_I cannot let you ride off to the battlefield again, my lord," _the elf stated clearly.

"_By whose order, Himon?_" Legolas replied trying to sound curt with the general. Himon snorted and tapped his fingers on the pommel of his sword.

"_Fine, I'll let you go,"_ Himon grumbled. He let out a whistle and three other elf warriors appeared, all three appearing to be ample enough to move around. _"Be careful, Prince Legolas." _

Coruwen watched as men mounted horses to follow them, and as they rode out of the camp she felt a dread creep across her skin once more. Faenaur's hooves sloshed against the wet earth that had been quenched with blood and rain water. They traveled across the Desolation of Smaug, where the Great Wyrm had been hewn from the sky by a single arrow. Coruwen's gaze watched the bodies of passing orcs, goblins, dwarves, elves, and Men appear before her. One of them was a mighty orc, broad and had been armed with a club, had been pierced by thousands of Elven arrows making it appear like an overused pincushion.

"_Are you all right?" _Legolas asked as they leapt over a fallen troll. She could not hear his voice on the wind, but instead could hear it through his chest. Subconsciously, her grip tightened around him. _"I'm taking that as a no." _

"_So much death… However did you make it out without so much as a scratch?" _Coruwen muttered.

"_I could lie and tell you it was nothing… However, that would be a lie. I can honestly say that it must've been the Blessing of Illuvatar." _Legolas replied.

Coruwen shut her eyes as a quiver raced down her spine. In her heart, she was happy he was alive. However, she could not bear it if another one of her allies had been killed because of war's sovereignty. The mangled bodies of elves and men made her stomach twisted painfully. She could've been out here fighting to help… If only she hadn't been taken down by the White Warg.. Once more her life was filled with 'only if's'.

"Ouch, be careful," Legolas yelped.

Coruwen loosened her death grip on him, and she shrunk back to the best she could. The blurring bodies of allies passed her, but she saw none that were familiar in the slightest. Faenaur came to halt upon a raised slope overlooking the vast landscape of the skirt of Erebor. Legolas dismounted, and helped her down.

"We are looking for the nephews of Thorin. If you find them quickly take them back to camp," Coruwen ordered. Legolas dipped his head to her and ran off into the sea of dead bodies that had accumulated over the course of a slow day. She heard the other elves that had traveled with them whisper amongst themselves as they searched the bodies of countless others. Through the fray of people Coruwen spied Dwarven warriors, and she ran towards them.

Sadly as she approached she took in their faces, all contorted into anguish and despair. Many had great wounds upon their bodies and red blood splattered out from the wounds like paint. Disgust wrenched her stomach as she passed them by, unable to bear the looks of fear any longer. The ground was coated in a layer of pitch black blood and red; the colors swirling together along with rain water spread the paint of war across the land.

Coruwen's eyes scanned the ground for anything that would bring the boys to her attention. Nothing just bodies, hundreds and hundreds of dead bodies. Her dread grew into a maniacal fear as she flicked her eyes to patches of unmarred earth. Something passed in her vision that lightened her heart a great deal.

Gold hair.

"Faenaur, follow," Coruwen said as she patted her thigh. Speed came to her as she ran towards picture she had seen. The horse and rider wove through trolls and fallen bats to find Fili lying on the ground. His breathing was shallow, and barely noticed to even her Elven eyes.

"Fili," Coruwen whispered stroking his hair. His blue eyes fluttered open, and a faint smile came to his lips. "Thank Varda, you're not dead." Coruwen turned her attention to Faenaur, who raked the ground with one hoof. "Get Fili onto your back, Faenaur."

The horse kneeled down to the dwarf's level, and with the help of his rider, Fili was up on the stallion's back. He clutched the white mane of Faenaur in one bloodied hand, and he let out a raspy cough drawing Coruwen's attention.

"Where's Kili?" Coruwen asked stroking his back.

"Over there," Fili whispered hoarsely. He motioned to a fallen orc archer with a gesture of his head. Coruwen's heart lightened a second time when she ran over to find Kili lying on his side with his bow inches from his fingers.

Coruwen knelt before him and turned him so he was on his back. Kili let out a howl of pain as she turned him. Her hands shook as she took his face, her thumbs running across his cheeks. His honey colored eyes brightened up at the sight of her.

"Coruwen…" Kili muttered.

"I'm going to help you get up onto Faenaur. Do not try to move around too much, understand?" She told him. Kili gave her a short nod. "Faenaur, to me."

The horse walked up to Coruwen and kneeled down to her level so she could help Kili up onto the horse. Her heart was light for once, yet at the same time it was ungodly heavy. As she sent Faenaur away with the boys, she couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. The wind tossed her gold hair around and sent the smell of rotting flesh to her senses.

"Where's Thorin?" Coruwen whispered as sadness gripped her heart. Nervously, her eyes darted around searching for the dwarf king. She shut her eyes as tears began to sting them. That did not stop a tear from slipping from her eyes. "Please, do not be dead."

"Coruwen!" Legolas' voice called.

She whirled around and saw him standing on top of a troll, his gaze flicking around for her. She calmed herself before walking up to him, but still her heart writhed in grief. Legolas leapt down and took her shoulders tightly, his grey eyes searching her face.

"What is the matter?" Legolas asked.

Coruwen brushed off his grip. "Have you received any news from the camp since we have ventured out here?" She inquired.

"That is not answering my question... I asked if something was the matter." Legolas said firmly. "And to answer you, yes I have."

"Nothing is the matter, Legolas…" Coruwen replied. Her head hung low for a moment, and she felt Legolas slip his hand into hers and give it a reassuring squeeze. "What news has arrived?"

"The King under the Mountain was given to the healers…" Coruwen's eyes went wide as she turned to face him. Upon her face was happiness and relief. "They do not know if he will make it, but they said he is faring better than they originally planned."

"Then let us be on our way." He saw a smile pass across her face, and he nodded. The two were given a horse to ride back on, and thus they returned to the encampment with haste. Legolas and Coruwen spied many healers filing in and out of a dark grey tent, but what truly caught their attention was Faenaur, who stood vigil outside of the tent.

Coruwen picked up her skirts and ran towards the tent but was stopped by a staff being held to her midsection. Gandalf eyed her curiously from his position beside the tent, and Coruwen caught the fearful look in the Istar's eyes. Her mind immediately thought of the worst possible outcome. Her hands balanced on Gandalf's staff and the wizard lowered it as he watched the elleth before him.

"My lady, what troubles you?" Gandalf asked quietly. So quiet that it almost sounded as if he were unsure of her mental state.

"Thorin is lost, Mithrandir…" Coruwen whispered as her throat tightened in sorrow.

Gandalf tipped up his hat feeling rather silly for saying this. "I sure hope he isn't… He's been awfully rambunctious for someone who got hit with a spiked cub in the side." Gandalf said in disbelief. Coruwen's heart leapt for joy at Gandalf's words. "The stubbornness of the dwarves is ever faithful."

Thorin was alive… Her heart lifted the hefty weight free of itself, and it then proceeded to beat happily within her chest. Her hand rested upon her heart in relief. Gandalf placed a hand on her head and gave it a reassuring pat. At the sight of the lady being in relief, Gandalf too felt in burst in his own heart.

"Kili and Fili were injured greatly, but in time they will wake," Gandalf told Coruwen. She did not face him, but instead gave him a nod. Coruwen saw Naruhel come out of the tent with her brown eyes shining happily. "That is the last of the healers…"

"You helped them?" Coruwen asked.

"Not I, my lady," Gandalf gestured to a sight that was considered rare. A pass of dark brown wavy locks came to her vision and the sway of light blue cloth. Arwen. "Elrond sent his daughter to heal them."

Coruwen smiled faintly. Arwen had gone off to Lórien during her departure from Imladris making her close enough to reach them. Coruwen ran up to Arwen, throwing her arms around her friend's neck. Arwen laughed as Coruwen hugged her.

"It is good to see you too, my friend," Arwen greeted taking Coruwen's hands in her own. The two smiled at each other. Arwen, like the twins, resembled Elrond a great deal with his dark hair and grey eyes. However, her eyes weren't as stern as Elrond's typically were. She had her mother's porcelain skin and pretty smile. But no smile came to the Lady Arwen's face, it was solemn. "They are not awake having merely graced death's grip."

Coruwen's stomach knotted painfully. "Arwen, will you stay with me while I keep an eye on them?" She asked.

Arwen's grey eyes became curious. "Yes, I will."

The two elves returned to the tent to find an unconscious Thorin, Kili, Fili, and Bilbo. Fili and Kili, out of the four had the worst injuries. Bloodied gauze covered their shoulders and chests. The younger dwarf has broken into a fever, and slept still, unmoved by the poison that had once ran through his veins. Fili had been poisoned as well, but most of the poison had been removed by an antidote fixed by the Elves.

Then Coruwen saw Thorin, who had worry lines etched into his brow as he slept. Across his chest were bandages, but Arwen said he had received arrows shot into his shoulder and side. A spiked club had cut his side deeply.

Finally, Bilbo had received a good conk on the head from a goblin with a rock. It certainly made his ears ring, but now he was unconscious. Coruwen came to sit in a chair in at the bed side of Thorin, and Arwen came to sit beside her, watching the others with anticipation.

"By Eru this is horrible," Coruwen whispered.

Arwen watched her with pity gleaming in her grey eyes. The sorrow coming from her friend was strong. Arwen reached up to grab a section of Coruwen's gold hair, but stopped when Bilbo groaned in his sleep.

"_The Hobbit stirs," _Arwen said as she walked over to Bilbo.

Coruwen saw his brown eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something in a hoarse voice. Arwen moved a cup of water to his lips and he drank the water she provided. Slowly, Bilbo spoke. "Coruwen, you're here."

"Yes, my _perian. _I never left you," She replied with a sad smile. Bilbo smiled weakly while rubbing the bump on his head.

"Lie back down or you'll become dizzy again," Arwen instructed firmly.

Bilbo complied and fell back into sleep once more. Arwen returned to Coruwen and started to braid her gold hair into intercut braids. It was soothing to the elleth as her friend worked meticulously on her hair. Arwen loved her hair; she said so herself many years ago.

And there the two stayed for a long while watching over the four.

As the sun rose the next day, Coruwen found that Bilbo was upright with inquisitive eyes searching the tent. Arwen had moved during that period of time to check upon the dwarves. The elleth was placing a cool cloth on Kili's forehead, and rechecked the stitches in his shoulder.

"There you two are," Ori's voice said in relief. Coruwen turned her head to see Ori, Dori, Balin, and Dwalin standing in the tent's entrance. "We thought you two got lost or something."

Coruwen watched the four enter the tent taking up places in various parts of the room. Ori sat at the base of her chair, flipping through the pages of his books. Occasionally, his brown eyes would flick up to watch Arwen move around the tent. After a long while, Oín came into the tent to check up on Thorin and the boys bearing news.

"Dain is carrying the affairs of our people until these three come too…" Oín said as he cleaned the wound on Thorin's left shoulder. Coruwen saw the black stitches in her beloved's shoulder and the gash on his side. "Freya refuses to move from Erebor until a decision is made upon who will rule the mountain."

"Stubborn dragon," Coruwen muttered. "It would make sense for her to not depart the mountain but if it is making a problem with Dain, I can force her to leave."

Balin chuckled, drawing her attention to the elder dwarf. "In all honesty, it would be best for Dain to stay his place in the mountain. However, if Freya would comply with just moving that would be a breakthrough."

"_That_ I can probably force on her," Coruwen replied as she twirled the tail of one of her braids. "I will speak to Freya in a few days once Bard moves his people back to Esgaroth."

"Dain will be driven mad," Dori said under his breath. Coruwen smiled, shaking her head, at the dwarf. Arwen came to sit in her chair, her fingers knitting together tightly. "You must be the Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond."

Arwen's gaze fell on Dori, and she gave him an incline of her head. Coruwen watched as Arwen spoke with the dwarves seeming to be rather calm in their presence. Her mind wandered to the motionless king beside her. It seemed every time her gaze fell on him, he was paler and his breathing becoming faint. It was heart wrenching to behold. Had Arwen not been present with her for the elongated period of time she surely would've broken down out of despair.

Arwen wrapped a hand around Coruwen's own. The lady's hands were soft and smooth, not roughened or marred by the use of weaponry. Though Coruwen knew she had held such hands before; Arwen had held Elrond's and Aragorn's hands before. Coruwen's hands had tremors racing through them, but were soothed by Arwen's thumbs running across her thin finger bones.

Oín hovered over Fili tapping his forehead with two fingers. Coruwen focused her attention away from her nervous behaviors with watching Oín observe Fili and Kili. Coruwen's dress was tugged on by a couple of fingers belonging to Ori, who looked up at her with intent written across his young face.

"Lady Arwen would you let me draw you?" Ori asked in a meek voice. Coruwen smiled as Arwen gave him a short nod, and he saw his face brighten up with a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Master Dwarf," Arwen replied patting his head softly. The lady's grey eyes came to Coruwen's face, in which she saw grief and forced happiness. _"What upsets you?" _

Coruwen shut her eyes and they reopened to watch the ground. _"The state of these three bothers me greatly… I do not know if they will make it." _Coruwen replied as her voice cracked in sadness. Arwen sighed, shaking her head at her friend. _"They are my allies… My friends... Would you not do the same for Estel?" _

"_I would," _Arwen whispered. _"But they are dwarves, Coruwen. You do not belong in their race. They are not to whom you belong… What would your father say if he were here?" _

Coruwen's eyes narrowed in disbelief. _"Do not use my father like that. He would trust my logic even if it is a bit irrational." _

Anger boiled in her veins for her temper was growing short. This was caused by pent up stress, dread, and sadness. Never before had she felt this mixture of feelings all rolling within her soul; and it grew as Arwen spoke. Out of irritation, Coruwen departed the tent with a swift gait.

As her anger quelled itself within her body, Coruwen felt the anger subside into grief. Her knees buckled forcing her to the ground in a fit of confused anger and sadness. Her hands clutched her dress, twisting it into swirls of tightened black cloth. Tears fell from her eyes as she wept. Her mind was fed up with being confused, slowly being tortured by the sight of Thorin, Kili, and Fili broken before her when she could do nothing. She was forced to watch them fade before her; what little life they clung to slowly peeling away like the edges of aged books.

"Damn war to the farthest reaches of the sea!" Coruwen cursed as she shook her head. "Why must it take?" He voice was slowly being swallowed up by grief's seductive song. "Why Eru?"

"They aren't dead yet," a voice grumbled. Coruwen's gaze slid sideways to Bofur, whose floppy hat was removed and his pipe away. He was haggard from his appearance, his face slightly pale and his normally playful glint that always lingered in his eyes was gone. "You shouldn't worry so much, Coruwen."

"Bofur," Coruwen managed through her constricting throat. "I feel as if I have lost them…"

Bofur scoffed as he came to sit beside her. His gaze softened as he took in her broken state. "Pretty lass like you doesn't need to cry." Bofur said. He patted her back, giving her some fraction of hope to bubble up in her heart. "You should know out of all of us, the stubbornness of Thorin and the boys. They won't go down without a lot of fight. It's how they have always been."

Coruwen chuckled faintly at Bofur's words that were, sadly, true. "Thorin mostly… Bull headed idiot."

"And I know that he wouldn't leave this world without telling you goodbye. He would haunt Erebor until he got it out, let me tell you."

Coruwen saw in Bofur a look of dead seriousness. He wasn't kidding like the giddy toymaker he was. No, this was the serious side of the toymaker, who was actually quite blunt when it came down to it. He continued on speaking, "I have a bet with Bifur and Bombur that Thorin will be the first one awake. He's got a girl waiting for after all, and well Erebor isn't gonna fix herself."

"Not with the way Freya has been holding up everything."

Bofur plopped his hat on his head lazily, a crooked grin coming to his face. "I never thought I'd like a dragon, but Freya… She's pretty nice, good protector, awfully beautiful, and got a good funny bone in her body."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she played Bifur for a fool the other day… Made him chase little escaped critters all over Erebor, turns out they were mechanical and would return if they started breaking down."

"How long did that take him?" Slowly, Coruwen felt her sadness alleviate itself from her heart as Bofur spoke to her. He was rather excellent at keeping others' attention on him and away from havoc. A trait she wished other people had.

Bofur pursed his lips in thought. "Oh, I'd say about three hours. Freya played stupid the entire time… Best prank I've seen in a long time."

"I see." Coruwen took her eyes off of Bofur to turn it to Smaug's lifeless corpse that still sat upon the ground but with an ever growing flock of carrions overhead. "Bofur, would you do thing for me?"

"Anything lass, just name it."

"If you ever have the time… Could you bring me one of Smaug's scales?"

Bofur looked at her in mild shock. He wasn't sure of her request, but gave her an answer. "What would you need one of those for, if you don't mind me prying?"

"I have one of Freya's scales. I think it would be nice to have one of Smaug's."

Bofur gave her a curt nod. The toymaker stood and sauntered off to do that which Coruwen had asked of him. Before she got out of his sight he peered over his shoulder to see if she was breaking down again. All Bofur could see was the stark difference in her gold hair to the dress she wore, as both rested motionless on top of the other.

"The lad is lucky…" Bofur murmured under his breath as he descended down the hill. He wandered through the camp for a spell before finding the perfect moment to grab one of Smaug's scales, which was oddly slick between his fingers. The scale was marred by dried blood and dirt, but it was no bigger than the dwarf's palm.

Bofur slipped the scale into his pocket as he returned to the camp to find Coruwen. He understood the elf's distraught nature; the wounds received by those three were grave practically fatal. Bofur thought the only reason they were still on this earth was because the elves had found them relatively early after the battle. Beorn had drawn Thorin away quickly after Bolg had smashed his club into the king's side.

Out of the healer tent came an elleth that startled Bofur on his hunt for Coruwen. Her hair was long, dark with waves, but sadly she moved so quick that he couldn't get a good look at her. After getting over the fact that an elf had spooked him, he entered the tent to see Kili sitting upright with Oín hovering over him.

Bofur smiled slightly at the sight of the young lad alert and awake, but deep in his mind he was uttering every curse in Khuzdul because of his loss. He watched as Kili rubbed the wounds on his shoulders and chest, but halted when Oín glared at him.

The tent flapped moved aside as the elleth from earlier appeared with Coruwen behind her. It was then that Bofur got a good look at this woman. Stormy grey eyes were set into a pretty face formed of porcelain skin and soft expression. She was a bit taller than Coruwen and their hair was the same length. This woman seemed familiar to Bofur… But how, was the question.

"Coruwen, Lady Arwen," Kili said before he let out a raspy cough. Coruwen moved to his side to place her hand on his back.

Arwen… Daughter of Lord Elrond, that's where Bofur has seen her. She was in Imladris when they had arrived. He watched as Arwen moved to Kili's side as he continued to cough, and it slowly turned into a bark like cough. Coruwen let Arwen help him, but Bofur saw the lady's eyes flick over to Thorin before she turned to face her friend. It broke the toymaker's heart to see her like this.

The rasp, bark like cough Kili had obtained was not soothed easily because Arwen and Oín bustled around the tent grabbing certain herbs. Mind you, they about knocked over Ori in their panicked search which warranted a yelp of surprise from him when Arwen accidently knocked a book over. Oín rubbed a salve on Kili's chest to calm the cough, and it worked after a few minutes allowing the lad to breathe. Though Kili's voice was scratchy from coughing a great deal, he spoke.

"What happened?" Kili asked.

"What all do you remember?" Balin inquired taking a place at the young dwarf's side.

Kili looked between the people in the room, and slowly he thought over what memories remained of the battle in his mind. "From what I remember, all I can seem to think of is seeing Uncle getting smashed with the club by Bolg. What actually happened?"

"That part you have in memory is correct. However, Beorn took Thorin away from the fight, and Bolg was killed by Gwaihir and Freya. In fact, those two did a great deal of damage to the battle field, wiping out a number of enemies before Beorn cleaned out everything else." Balin told him. Kili's eyes fell on his brother, who was still unconscious in the bed beside him. Dread and sadness crept up on Kili's face as he shut his eyes from the sight. "The two of you are lucky to be alive in all honesty. The wounds you received are of greater damage than those received by Thorin."

"Uncle is still alive?"

"Aye, but not awake sadly."

"Damn…"

Balin placed a hand on Kili's good shoulder, silently assuring him everything would be fine. Never before had Kili looked so solemn in the eyes of others. His eyes were a shade of dark gold, and his brown hair hung in his eyes. Despite having the worst condition, Kili was oddly alert. The others slowly came to be near Kili as he slowly recovered from his somber behavior.

Kili noticed Coruwen staying away from him the entire time the others flocked around him. Her face was pale, almost ghostly, and her hair hung over one side of her fair face. As Oín shooed the others away, he took notice of Kili's behavior. That or it was plain as day on his face and he didn't know it.

"Coruwen, could you come over here?" Oín asked, smiling wryly.

Kili watched Coruwen's blue eyes flick up to Oín, and she nodded. When Coruwen approached him, he took note of her appearance. Her eyes were rimmed with red from lack of sleep. Stress is heavy upon the elves when it comes to them… It was a terrible thing to behold in those who were experiencing it. Coruwen sat on the edge of Kili's bed, and gingerly he took her hand in his good one.

Oín left Kili's bedside to speak with Arwen, and he gave Coruwen's hand a good squeeze. "It'll be ok…" Kili whispered, meeting her eyes. Coruwen looked at him, shocked. "Uncle and Fili will make it out just fine. They're fighters."

Coruwen smiled wearily. "I know they are… I just wish they'd wake up."

"That'll happen soon enough, and then we'll want both of them out of our hair." Kili let out a small chuckle that was followed by a cough. "Am I right?"

"Kili, you shouldn't hurt yourself like that…" Coruwen passed a hand across his dark hair that resembled Thorin's a great deal. Her smile faded into a thin line of concern. "Yes, you are right. Soon enough it will come, but it is waiting that I do not desire."

"No one does, silly." He carefully lowered himself back down into the comfort of the blankets, but felt pain lance through his system like a blast of fire. A growl escaped him, but felt two cold hands wrap around his good shoulder and push him down slowly. He regarded her fondly with bright gold eyes. "Uncle told me you sing quite nicely…" Coruwen traced his hair line and drowsiness prodded him. "Would you sing, just this once?"

Coruwen nodded as continued to trace his hairline with feathery fingertips that oddly soothed his anxious nerves and lancing pain. His eyelids became heavy as she sang a song, low and sweet to him. As her song faded into a sea of murmurs, muffled by sleep he heard a second voice chime in that sounded a bit higher in pitch than that being used. However, he wasn't going to fight the sleep that took a hold of his body, and slowly sunk into the embrace of it.

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**A/N: And that was the first chapter to Son of Durin. For those, who are bit confused and need a bit of clearing things up look up the prequel, A Marchwarden's Daughter. Hope you guys liked it, and are looking forward to more. **

_Please Review. _


	2. Chapter 2

_Breaking Chains_

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Kili woke to the sound of muffled whispers, cracking open one gold eye to see blurry figures moving about in a sea of sun worn grey. He tried to move but was stabbed in the side by a lance of pain shooting from one side of his abdomen to the other. Kili gritted his teeth as it grew into a hot, searing pain. He heard a small yelp of surprise as a white blur hovered over him, but all he felt was cold rushing across his skin as the wound was being exposed to the open air. Granted it soothed the heat across his skin, but it did _not_ quell the growing pain that speed beneath his skin.

Kili fought to focus his mind on other things that he knew were in the room, like Fili or Thorin. His gaze swiveled to his unconscious brother, whom appeared as a gold, pale blur in his swimming vision. He felt like a failure, he had let his brother become injured… Was he a fool?

"Fili," He whispered. His fingers twitched as he whispered the name of his older brother. He wanted desperately to help him, but could not. The cool sensation crept beneath his skin as the pain had, and slowly he regained control of his muscles. He was tired of being confined to this bed for nearly a week by now. He wanted to move around, be free… However, he couldn't move without feeling pain in his side or shoulders, that or he was achy from his body overexerting itself.

His vision began to clear up as the pain went away, and it revealed Arwen hovering over him. The lady's grey eyes were curious and kind. A small smile came to Arwen's face as she saw him open his eyes fully.

"Lady Arwen," Kili said hoarsely. Arwen gave him a curt nod before placing her cool hand on his forehead. "How are Uncle and Fili?"

"They are still unconscious, Kili," Arwen told him as she dipped a cloth in a bowl of water to place on his forehead. The cold cloth on his forehead soothed the heat that had naturally come to him nowadays. "I am sure they will be up and around in no time."

Arwen said that a few days ago. He saw in the lady's eyes a great uncertainty… How could she not be unsure? Oín had predicted that at least Thorin would be awake by now, but things weren't looking like that. It was unnerving to be the only one awake, and all you could do was watch and wait. The few times he had seen Coruwen she was sitting by either his bedside or Thorin's, and the poor thing looked tired, more so than usual. She would often nod off to sleep while she would be talking to him.

"You said that a few times, Arwen," Kili muttered. His throat was raw from coughing and it was becoming a bother to deal with. Talking, even catching his breath, was a task in itself. "What have you not done?"

"That is a good question…" Arwen replied, looking over Fili. "I have tried practically everything in my power here. I am not in my home so my skills are limited." Arwen shook her head making her dark hair sway side to side. It was like watching rolling waves of dark brown and black hair creep upon pale shoulders of blue cloth. "It is in the hands of your brother and uncle now, little one."

Kili growled low, which burned his throat however he didn't care. He was done with this waiting game. He would admit he was a good sport and waited, but now this was getting silly. In all honesty, he felt like a kid again when he would watch his mother take naps. It felt like time was dragging on and on, slowly crawling onward.

"I know you're upset, but there is nothing more we can do," Arwen's gaze rested upon another person in the room. Kili followed her gaze to a sleeping Coruwen, who was sitting on the ground with her head and arms resting upon Thorin's bed with her gold hair fanned around her like a veil. "I have known her all my life, and this is the first time I have seen her unsettled by something. Coruwen is strong, very firm in her ways."

"What do you mean?"

Arwen returned her gaze to him. "My brother, Elladan, used to call her a tiger when we were young. She was that fierce and unshaken by anything by brothers pulled on her. And now that I see her like this, I see another side of her that is foreign to my eyes." The lady sighed heavily. "She loves him…"

Kili smiled knowingly. "Yes, she does, and the feeling is returned."

Arwen let out a hum in response. Kili knew of the hatred between their people, and in all honesty the relationship between Coruwen and Thorin was strange. It was simply not done, or even thought of for that matter.

Kili let the silence go on for another few minutes before speaking again. "Is she actually sleeping?"

"Yes, quite heavily too," Arwen replied quietly. Kili saw Oín pass by Fili, and on his way by he stopped to tap Fili's forehead and rest his hearing horn on the dwarf's chest to listen for a heartbeat. After a few more obscure experiments Oín moved to Thorin and tapped his temples once or twice, and from the king came a small groan. Arwen and Kili perked up at that sound. "Is he coming too?"

Oín's gaze flicked backward and a sly smile came to him as he continued to prod Thorin. Arwen bolted up and moved to Coruwen's side and began to shake her awake. Kili braced himself on his good side to watch his uncle awaken. Coruwen's angered groan came shortly after Kili was able to see over Fili, and he saw her sky blue eyes, lined with light red, flick up to Arwen, irritation growing in them.

"What do you want, Arwen?" Coruwen mumbled, bracing her chin on her folded hands. Arwen gestured to Thorin, who had cracked open one sapphire eye to look up at Oín, who was looking down at his king in relief. Coruwen's posture straightened as she watched Thorin from his side.

"Oín," Thorin managed through his scratchy and dry throat. Oín smiled and brought a cup of water to Thorin's lips to drink. Kili watched his uncle in eagerness, his heart about bursting in joy at the sight. Had he been ample enough to move he would've been at Thorin's side instantly. As Oín backed away, Thorin met his nephew's eyes and smiled faintly. "It's good to see you awake, Kili."

Kili smiled back. "It's good to see you too, Uncle."

Thorin attempted to move, but gritted his teeth when pain jabbed him in the shoulder. His gaze fell upon Coruwen and he reached up to touch her face, but was halted by his shoulder again. Her hand pressed itself to his face gently as if testing to see if he were truly alive before her. He leaned into her touch, and watched her carefully. She was flushed of all color, her blue eyes rimmed red, and her hair slightly frizzy. She had been stressing herself out.

"Coruwen," Thorin whispered as she retracted her hand to her side. He saw her gesture with her head over him to Kili, who had watched them from afar. However, in between them was Fili. Instantly, the king's heart cracked at the sight of his oldest nephew beaten into unconsciousness. It was made clear to him by Fili's ashen skin and still sleeping pattern. "How long was I unconscious?"

Oín stepped forward and was giving him an expression that was rare for someone like the elder. He was relieved, yet at the same time he was distraught. It was plain to see upon the healer's face. "You have been unconscious for a week," Oín stated. "And Kili has been awake for nearly four days."

Oín removed soiled bandages from Thorin's shoulder, and though he tried not to prod the wound every so often he would bump it and Thorin would wince ever so slightly. His body was doing it by reaction, not on purpose.

"A week?" Thorin muttered in disbelief.

"We've been worried sick," A voice mumbled. The king's eyes met Coruwen's own. His left hand gripped hers loosely, her fingers holding touching his palm lightly. Her voice was cracking from lack of rest. "Kili and I have been the most worried."

"I see…"

Coruwen gave him a faint smile. "It is good to see you awake, Thorin." In her blue eyes he saw grief lift away to an overjoyed sadness, and her eyes became glassy as she focused her gaze on the ground. "_Celair Estel." _

Coruwen stood and left his side to stand at Kili's side. She pulled him upright, and then with the help of another healer they helped Kili to his feet. The boy was shaky on his feet, but nonetheless came to sit beside his uncle and allow the two to talk. Silently, Coruwen slipped out of the tent to search for the remaining company that had been scattered throughout Bard's camp. The Elvenking had departed a few days ago, but left a few healers behind to tend to those whose wounds were in need of watching.

Coruwen passed a dark haired man, whose grim features were lightened by a smile, and he chuckled catching her off guard. Bard stood behind her with a smile on his face, and his dark eyes glinting happily. He wore garments of dark brown and black with a fur cloak wrapped around his shoulders, and his sword and bow upon his person.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, my lady?" Bard inquired as he walked closer to her. Coruwen placed her hands behind her back and gave him a bow of her head. "I do not require such formalities, Lady Coruwen. After all, you are the lady of the King under the Mountain."

"Bard please, if you do not wish me to treat you like a king then do not use my title." Coruwen said firmly. Bard nodded to her before she spoke again. "I am in search of the remains of my company, I have news for them."

At the sentence Bard's curiosity got the better of him and a sly smirk came to his lips. "News? What news is there to give, Coruwen?"

Coruwen opened her mouth to reply, but caught his little game and then narrowed her eyes at him. Bard averted his eye from her gaze, and then proceeded to watch the clouds as if he had never heard anything. "Sly fox of a man."

"Oops." Bard flicked his gaze back to her and let out a laugh. "I almost had it… You have to give me some credit for almost getting information out of an elf."

Coruwen sighed. "I give you credit, Lord of Dale. Now, have you seen any of my company about lately?"

"Most of them are in the pavilion, and a few have gone up to Erebor."

Coruwen bowed her head to Bard. "Thank you, Bard."

"It is a pleasure to help you, my lady."

Coruwen mentally shook her head at the man's willingness to help her. She thought that should she have been any other elf he might've not paid her any mind, but, as he stated, she was the Lady belonging to The King of Erebor. She passed by the main pavilion to spy Bilbo sitting beside Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, and Gloín. She took note that Balin and Dwalin weren't present, and the rest remained down in the encampment.

Instantly, Ori's gaze fell on her and he stood along with Dori. The two roused the others up quickly as Coruwen stepped into the pavilion. A smile came to her when their attentions fell on her.

"Is something the matter, Coruwen?" Bilbo asked.

Coruwen shook her head. "Quite the opposite, little Bilbo," She replied. "Thorin has awakened."

Within mere moments, the company was smiling and simply overjoyed to hear that piece of news. She watched as Gloín walked up to her, his dark eyes dead serious in every regard.

"What of Fili then?" Gloín asked.

Coruwen shook her head slowly and Gloín let out a huff. "He is the only one who hasn't showed signs of waking. Arwen has done everything in her power as it is."

Gloín was about to reply when Dori came up to her, and gave her a big smile. "We should tell Balin and Dwalin, no?" Dori inquired. Coruwen have him an incline of her head, but in truth she was going to wait it out before fetching the sons of Fundin. She knew when Balin came Thorin would begin to start thinking of moving towards Erebor again. Typically, she would allow Thorin to go, but he was still injured and she knew his stubbornness all too well.

"All of you go on ahead, I have business to take care of," Coruwen said. The group agreed and made their way towards the healer tent. Coruwen, on the other hand, walked out of the pavilion and called for Faenaur to come to her. The horse came trotting up to her and gave her a toss of his head in greeting. Her slender hand pressed itself against his soft muzzle. "We need to go to Erebor, Faenaur. We have to get Freya to leave."

The stallion rapped one hoof on the ground in reply as she mounted his bare back. The heat rolled off of his cream coat in waves and as she clicked her tongue for him to move she felt his muscles ripple beneath his skin. Her hands clutched chunks of white mane that was coarse and wiry. The horse proceeded to pick up his feet into a swift canter that allowed the two to ride up to Erebor's gates. The cold of winter was strong and according to Ori, snow would be falling soon.

Coruwen's hearing picked up on the sound of a rumbling, gruff voice and a deep alto voice. The rumbling voice sounded upset, practically livid. After a while of silence a loud thump rattled the walls along with a shout that filled every empty space of Erebor.

"I am not moving!" The voice shouted. Coruwen shook her head with a nervous smile on her face. Freya was going to be the bane of Dain's existence. She entered Erebor and saw Freya's angular, ram horned head inside of the main hall. "I am fairly sure I made that clear a few days ago, Dain."

Coruwen was flicked across the cheek by Freya's tail; it was a hard flick as if being slapped. The dragoness' rosewood red scales appeared black with the tint of amber firelight, and it darkened her fire like eyes with colors of rich oranges and reds. The dragon removed her head as Dain came storming out, with his axe hilt slamming the stone floor hard sending ear shattering cracks into the air. As Dain's axe hilt smacked the ground she felt her ear drums rattle.

"I don't care, you over grown snake! I need to fix this mountain, and _you_ aren't helping!" Dain barked over his shoulder. Freya let out a snort, and smoke puffed out of her nose as anger boiled in her. The dragoness had one side of her lips curled up in a vicious snarl revealing her jagged, pearly teeth. "Go ahead and threaten me. I'm going to win."

Freya's head snaked in front of him and their eyes met. Coruwen was sure that she saw electrical sparks fly as they gazes met. "Try me."

Coruwen felt tension pierce the air and become heavy. "Freya," She said meekly. The dragon removed her gaze from Dain's and it met Coruwen's. Freya's amber eyes became soft and endearing. "I have news for you."

"Speak, dear one," Freya replied, containing her dangerous tones.

"_You may leave Erebor now. He has come to," _Coruwen told her. Freya's gaze flicked back to Dain, and she snorted out black smoke again. _"I hate to take you away from your torturing of Lord Dain." _

"It is fine, dear one." Freya turned her attention to Dain. "I will be leaving you now, Lord Dain. As much as I would like to stay and pester you."

Dain scoffed but gave Freya a short nod of respect. Freya slinked out of Erebor and up into the sky with one good launch. Coruwen was buffeted by a blast of beaten air as the dragoness passed her on her way by. Dain then turned his attention to Coruwen.

"Lady Coruwen," Dain said walking up to her. He a burly dwarf, almost bear like. His shoulders were broad and his hair dark. His walking axe rested beneath his gloved hands, as he came to stand in front of her. "What brings you here?"

"I come bearing news, Lord Ironfoot. Thorin has awakened along with Kili. However, neither one of them are fit enough to move," She reported. Slowly, Dain's face became a hard mask, but his eyes were concerned. "Kili is a few day ahead of Thorin, and can move very little."

"What of Fili then?" Dain inquired.

Coruwen shook her head, feeling her heartstrings being plucked. "He has shown little improvement."

Dain let out a groan. "Damn it."

"I have come to fetch Dwalin and Balin, if you could spare them both. And if you would like to come also-,"

"I can do that, my lady. Come, I will find the brothers." Dain walked down a staircase and yelled down a corridor for Balin and Dwalin. The voice this man possessed was booming, and could strike fear into anyone if he deemed fit. Coruwen tightened her hands into the folds of her dress as Dain yelled again, her nerves spiking at each yell. Dwalin was the first to appear with a cross look upon his face. Dain had called him from something important apparently.

Balin appeared shortly after his brother and gave Coruwen an incline of his head, which she reciprocated.

"Why were you yelling, Dain?" Dwalin grumbled.

"Thorin's come to," Dain replied. Dwalin raised both eyebrows to the remark, and Balin smiled. "Lady Coruwen has come to fetch us."

The three turned their attention to her, and she bowed her head to them. And so they ventured down the mountain to the healer tent. Coruwen stepped inside first to find Kili still at his uncle's side and the others scattered about the tent. She entered and the other three followed behind her. The three greeted Thorin and Kili while Coruwen moved to sit beside Arwen, who was watching this go on with curiosity.

"_This is a bit ridiculous…"_ Arwen whispered.

Coruwen smiled lightly, knowing that Arwen was beginning to become uncomfortable with this many people in the room. The lady's grey eyes were shut as she back in her chair. _"They will be gone soon enough, my friend." _Coruwen assured her.

Arwen tugged on one Coruwen's wavy strands of hair hard and she playfully swatted Arwen's arm. _"You still have that weakness,"_ Arwen chuckled.

"_Shut up." _

Coruwen wrapped her hair around to her right shoulder far from Arwen's reach and she ran her fingers through it, pulling on various strands to split them apart. Despite her outward appearance of forced happiness and alertness, Coruwen was about ready to collapse. Her fingers had tremors going through them as she forced herself awake, and her nerves were wearing thin. If she snapped at anyone she would not mean it.

"_How are you feeling?" _Arwen asked.

Coruwen's eyes fell on Arwen, who was watching her intently. She shook her head slightly, and Arwen's hand rested on her knee giving it a small squeeze. _"Coruwen, get some rest. You haven't done so in days…"_Arwen said urgently, but still managed to keep her voice low.

"_Arwen, I have tried. I may be able to this night, but not until I know they will be fine,"_ She replied.

Arwen sighed, defeated. _"Where are my brothers when I need them?" _

Coruwen smirked, _"Home." _

"_Be quiet, you." _

Arwen and Coruwen watched the company from afar, and when night fell onto the world Ori and Bilbo came to sit by the two elves. Coruwen saw the sketch of Arwen Ori had drawn a few days ago in the centerfold of his book with a title beneath it reading: "The Lady Undomiel." It was a picture of Arwen sitting in a chair with her hands knit together in a steeple as her gaze traveled elsewhere. Coruwen shut her eyes and listened to the sound of the others speaking amongst themselves, allowing herself to relax. Her body happily accepted the feeling, taking in every bit of rest she would allow currently.

* * *

A long while passed and the voices of the company diminished off into the sounds of the wind rustling the tents outside and the sound of Kili's ever so slight wheezing. She opened her eyes and recoiled at the lantern light. Ori and Bilbo were both curled up in a ball asleep with a blanket covering them, and Arwen was checking on Thorin and Kili. Carefully, Coruwen stood and crept past Bilbo to reach Arwen's side.

"Is there anything you need me to do?" Coruwen asked. Arwen turned one grey eye to her and she let out a small laugh.

"Keep the king still, he keeps fidgeting." Arwen replied softly as she moved to Fili.

Why did this not surprise her?

Coruwen moved to Thorin's side and kneeled down to his level. He looked at her curiously as she was kneeling down, and let out a small growl knowing why she was over here.

"Why aren't you behaving?" Coruwen said, a small smile coming to her face. She had heard his growl, and it was hitting nerves. However, she didn't care if was or not. He wasn't supposed to be moving right now because of his side and shoulder. Thorin was unfazed by her and moved to look at her closely.

"Says the one who hasn't slept in days," Thorin teased, moving aside some of her gold hair. She moved out his touch, giving him a dark glare. He smiled at the sight of her being flustered.

"Thorin…" Coruwen warned. "I will not have you reopening the stitches on your side and shoulder. It's bad enough you were unconscious for a week."

He sighed, knowing he wasn't going to gain ground with her like this. He found it enjoyable to tease her when she wasn't sleep deprived like she was currently. She leaned against the side of his bed, and he took the chance to play with the ends of her wavy hair.

"If I don't move, will you stay here?" He inquired. Coruwen blinked at the question, slightly questioning whether or not he truthfully meant it. He saw her confusion, and gave her a hair a slight tug. "I won't move if you won't."

"This isn't a game, Thorin…"

"Whenever did I say that?"

After a few moments of her eyes flicking up to his and then at the ground, she nodded. As he ran his fingers through her hair with his good hand, he saw her blue eyes darken with sleep. He dare not question how much sleep she had gotten, for it plain to see by her appearance. The way she leaned into his touch was enough for him to know that she nodding off to sleep.

"Stop," Coruwen mumbled, swatting the air with one hand.

What grace she typically possessed was gone as she drifted in and out of sleep. He saw she was fighting it, quite well too. His fingers ran across the side of her face and then into her hair one last time before she relaxed into his touch completely.

"Uncle," Kili's voice hissed. Thorin turned his attention to Kili, whose head could be seen from where Thorin was. His nephew's gold eyes were curious, and a smile was growing on his face. "Is she asleep?"

Thorin glanced down at Coruwen and saw her face peaceful, and her breathing evening out. His hand passed across her gold hair and pale face. She let out a quiet groan at the touch, but she did not move from her spot.

"Yes, she is," Thorin replied returning his gaze to Kili. The boy smiled big and then he disappeared out of sight. The king shook his head at the sight of Kili's lightheartedness. He was becoming more and more like his old self again, which was an improvement as Arwen had stated a few hours ago. His focus was away from Kili and from beside him came his younger nephew and startled him. "What are you doing?"

Kili crawled over to Coruwen, carefully approaching her to make sure she didn't wake up. He then pulled himself into the chair at Thorin's bedside and gave him a goofy grin. Thorin didn't understand what Kili was up to in all honesty. The lad's gold eyes were bright with curiosity and happiness.

"What are you up to, little one?" Thorin asked.

Kili opened his mouth in shock. "Why do you assume that I am up to something?" Kili inquired in disbelief. "I am not up to anything, just for your information." The dwarf crossed his arms over his chest, and met his uncle's eyes. Thorin was not agreeing with that logic, whatsoever. He raised an eyebrow to Kili, and the boy still remained adamant. "Not yet anyway."

Thorin shook his head, but a smile played on his lips as he did it. "Then what are you going to do, my nephew?"

Kili gestured to Coruwen with a fond look in his eyes. Thorin's gaze hardened as he let out a growl. His nephew gestured again with a bit more vigor. The king reached over to a table and grabbed a wad of gauze and threw it at Kili.

"Come on, just do it!" Kili snapped as he threw the gauze back.

"Kili, there is a word for such matters. It's called patience," Thorin replied. The gauze ball hit him on the forehead and he growled. "Something you sometimes lack."

"You shouldn't worry about it… She has remained with you this far." Kili watched his uncle hesitate for a second before throwing the gauze back at him. His uncle's blue eyes darkened as they fell on Coruwen. "You should know that better than anyone, Uncle. While you were unconscious she refused to move away from you, and you know she hasn't slept in days."

"Kili…"

"Listen for a second. Coruwen can be just as stubborn as you, and she refused to move. Arwen and Oín tried to move her, but even they couldn't' get her to move away from you. If you doubt yourself now, you're going to lose her."

Thorin shut his eyes, and they reopened to see Kili looking at him sternly. Why did he have to have the one trait of Dís' that was so unbearable? But as Thorin met his nephew's gaze he saw his younger sister staring back at him. Fili did it too; in fact they both had it. Thorin let out a breath and gave Kili a nod.

"I am taking my time, Little One," Thorin said quietly. Kili's eyes widened. "Just let me handle it. I know you want to force the matter, but I have to be sure."

"Yes, Uncle, I understand." He reached over and gave his uncle's shoulder a small pat, just gracing the chain around his neck. The chain moved slightly sending a cold feeling across Thorin's chest. A small oval object rested against his heart along with his father's key. As Kili returned to his bed, Thorin couldn't help but feel like his nephew was right.

Or was he right? He couldn't figure out who was correct. Against his side he felt something brush up against him. Coruwen's head was tilted to the side with her gold hair lying across the bed in rolling waves. Thorin gently ran his hand across her hair feeling certain waves pull on his fingers and try to stop him. When he reached the end of her hair, he pulled his hand away still feeling the softness of her hair against his roughened hand.

Under his breath, he whispered, "Whose path is correct?"

* * *

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for not updating yesterday.. I turned a year older as of yesterday, so I was busy. I saw alot of people Favorited/ followed and it makes my heart sing!**

**Also, for those of you who were looking Dragon Queen, it is not out yet due to some plot line issues and I am having a bit of a big question to answer with myself. **

**Hope you all enjoyed, and please review! **


	3. Chapter 3

_Departing Shadow_

* * *

Freya sat in the shadow of Erebor with her head raised to catch the patches of light that streamed through the murky grey clouds. The dragoness was starting to feel the world become cold as the days passed on as of late. Coruwen would come to see her every so often, but she knew the elleth wouldn't leave the king's side without being forced. Freya's gaze fell on the corpse of Smaug whilst carrions picked off large chunks of rotten flesh, and her heart sank in her broad chest.

Her little dragon, her baby, torn down to nothing by an arrow to the chest.

In a way, Freya cursed Yavanna for gifting her with only one child. Then again, she was now alone in the world without another mate, child, or friend. Yes, the Queen was alone. She was luckily graced with dear friends like Coruwen, but they weren't her size or of same kin.

Freya brought up one paw to scratch her bone white neck scales and she felt the cold slow her movements. Damn cold blood to hell. She let out a small puff of fire out of her lips to warm up her frozen paws and it allowed her to move the paw freely again. She wiggled her talons, inspecting them carefully. They glistened a bright vermillion when they caught sunlight much like her little Smaug.

"Stop that you fool," Freya growled at herself. Her eyes fell on Erebor to watch the little people below scurry about like little ants. Then again, everything was an ant to her. She let out a rumble when Bard passed her with a look of concentration upon his young face. The lord jumped and whirled to face her.

"Lady Queen," Bard said as he regained himself. He cleared his throat of the fear that circled through him, and it was plain to see by his expression. Freya found the race of Men interesting; they were short lived creatures, quite handy, but reckless. "Is there something you need, Freya?"

Freya crossed her paws one over the other, and regarded him with curious amber eyes. "I am bored, little Lord. Speak to me," Freya replied. Bard moved a lock of wispy, brown hair out of his eyes and began to ponder on what to tell her. She could see the little gears in his head moving. "Don't hurt yourself."

Bard shot a glare up at her and she let out a chuckle that rumbled her cold chest cavity. A few times the Lord would open his mouth to speak but would quickly snap his mouth shut. Freya became impatient as Bard came to sit on her folded paws. She let those she trusted sit on her paws, and Bard was of the handful she trusted. Her gaze rose up and panned the world around her.

Cream and dark grey tents were precariously spread throughout the landscape, and there had once been light brown and green mingled in between. She sent a small prayer to Yavanna for the elf-host's departure. The elves made the dwarves uneasy, and thus would treat her poorly… Well, more so than usual, unless it was the Son of Thrain or any that bunch.

In fact, Freya found it rather funny that Thorin had let her stay beneath his mountain for a spell. She didn't know if Coruwen had stayed his wrath or a simple act of kindness. Whatever the cause, she was happy for it. She felt Bard pat her paw gently. The dragoness flicked her gaze downward to Bard.

"How come you had to be summoned to be on this earth, Queen Dragon?" Bard inquired.

Freya's eyes went wide, and felt her heart give out a painful jolt. Bard's eyes became concerned when she did not reply shortly after him. Gently, she nudged him with the tip of her nose. "Great Lord, I have lived on this earth for a long time. I have been alive since the First Age and that Age was when I was injured. In the Second Age, I was killed by who I loved dearly." Freya told him. "My mate breathed his cold air into my lungs, killing my fire and thus I died."

Bard placed his rough hands on either side of her nose, placing his forehead against it. "I am sorry to pry, Lady Dragon," Bard apologized.

"It is nothing, Little Lord. Few know of how I died, or the truth. Not even the Elven Lady of Thorin knows the tale."

Bard was surprised by the latter statement, for even Freya had told Coruwen practically everything about herself. However some things aren't meant to come to light, even when you're as old as the mountains.

"That is a truly horrible death…" Bard said placing a hand on the pommel of his sword. "Is there anything you wish for me to tell you?"

Freya let out a hum in thought, her tail tip flicking pensively. "How does the king and his heirs fare?"

"The last one finally awakened just this morning after much time. The youngest is walking, and the king is more alert than ever."

"Excellent that is very good to hear." Bard smiled up at Freya as she let out a small chuckle. "I will assume that the king is becoming anxious to move?"

"Yes… Dwarves are such stubborn creatures, and I have yet to understand that single trait."

Freya laughed. "Not even I understand them, Little Lord."

* * *

Coruwen and Kili walked side by side as she helped him regain his walking. The muscles in his body had lost their ability to hold his own weight since his injury. His hand rested on her forearm and she watched him carefully.

"Coruwen, you don't have to stay with me," Kili said in a low voice. "Go be with uncle before Lady Arwen has a stroke."

Coruwen chuckled at the remark, but patted his hand softly. "It was Thorin who told me to stay with you, Kili. And I will do just that." Coruwen stated with a small smile. She found Kili's self confidence a sign that he was tired of being babied. Coruwen knew he was the baby of his family and was treated as so; it drove him insane. Kili looked at her with embarrassment in his eyes, "However, if you want me to leave you alone I can certainty do so."

She felt his hand slip off of her forearm and felt him latch onto her quickly before she could get too far away. Coruwen helped brace him since he lost his balance. Once he was balanced, Coruwen ruffled his hair. His bad hand came up to smooth the mussed hair as he glared at her.

"Ok, ok, I get it when I'm not supposed to do something," Kili muttered begrudgingly.

Coruwen laughed, "You're just as stubborn as your uncle."

Kili pursed his lips in a pout. "I can thank my mother for that."

"Oh?"

"When you meet my mother, I will warn you that she even strikes fear into Thorin." Kili shook his head, letting out a sigh. "And I suppose being around Uncle isn't helping me rid myself of this stubbornness."

"No, but it isn't a bad thing. It is better to be stubborn than meek." Coruwen brought his gaze up to hers. "Do not be discouraged by who you are…"

Kili watched as Coruwen turned her attention away from him. He tightened his grip on the navy cloth of her dress, and he watched her slender hand rest on top of his. Her fingers tapped his hand as if she were plucking strings on a harp.

"How much longer until Uncle and Fili are able to move again?" Kili asked.

Coruwen was caught off guard by the question since she had been previously watching Erebor's misty, ethereal halo circle the mountain's peak. Her mind reeled for a second and then picked up the pieces quickly. Her blue eyes met the curious gold ones of Kili.

"Knowing Thorin, he will be walking by tomorrow or the next day." Coruwen replied. "Fili has been sleeping most of the time and probably won't be too far behind."

Kili nodded in agreement. "Then begins a whole new adventure…" He whispered. Coruwen chewed the inside of her cheek in worry knowing of what he spoke of. "Uncle has told of us that one day either myself or Fili will rule over the mountain… And it seems frightening to know that one day he won't be here."

Coruwen's heart gave out a painful twinge, knowing that truly Thorin wouldn't be there beside her. She would live on without him, without the love she held so dearly. Without the one person who accepted her.

"Coruwen?" Kili asked. Her eyes were clouded over by a look of pain. He removed his hand from her arm, feeling his body shake a little as he reached up to touch her face. He moved aside some of her gold hair to get a better look at her face. "Coruwen, are you ok?"

The lady shook herself free of the thoughts that clouded her, and he let out a relieved breath. Thorin would kill him if she was broken in any fashion. Her eyes fell on him, and a faint smile came to her lips. Then she looked him up and down, confusion painted on her face.

"What?"

Coruwen took a step back with her hands on her hips and a confident smile on her face. "Look down, Kili." She said.

He was standing… By himself. Happiness came to him as he did not shake or wobble in place. No, he was standing perfectly on his own.

That instance was short lived.

Kili took a step towards her and tumbled to the ground. Coruwen cried out for him, and as she knelt at his head to make sure he was all right, she started to giggle and laugh. Kili stared at her like she had lost ever loving mind.

"What is so funny?" Kili growled as pain poked at his back. Great, he had rolled onto his wounded shoulder. It had luckily healed, but it still hurt a great deal. Coruwen stood and held back a laughing fit. He braced himself up on both elbows while Coruwen pulled him up on his feet again. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Not funny."

"It was at that moment in time, Dear Kili," Coruwen laughed. She contained her laughter with a simple clearing of her throat. "We should get you back to the tent."

Kili nodded and walked back to the tent with Coruwen. He entered the tent to see Fili upright and talking to Ori, who was sitting a chair with his sketch book in his lap. When Kili entered, Fili gave his brother a small incline of his head in greeting, which he returned. Coruwen moved to sit beside Balin, who was watching over Thorin.

Coruwen knit her fingers together, leaning into the back of the chair's wooden back. She felt mentally exhausted again. Her heart seemed slow and everything dragged on forever. Balin looked back at her and smiled.

"He fell asleep not too long ago," Balin said. "He was planning on waiting for you and Kili to return."

Coruwen shook her head. "He needs the rest," she whispered. "In a few days, they will be heading back to Erebor."

"And what are you going to do?" Balin inquired patting her hand. Coruwen shut her eyes as confusion prodded her mind. She didn't know that answer in all honesty. What _would_ she do after Thorin and the boys were fine? The main reason she had stayed for such a long period of time was because they were injured. Or was there another underlying cause? If she went back to Lothlórien then she would have to face her father about the fact she had ran away from Imladris. That, and Haldir would guilt her into her telling him about Thorin.

Balin's voice snapped her back into reality. "Lass, you do not have to decide now."

Coruwen met his eyes and nodded slowly. "Right," She muttered.

"Dear one!" Freya's voice boomed over head, scaring everyone in the camp half to death. Coruwen stood and left the tent with Arwen following her. Freya was lying in front of the encampment with her paws crossed revealing her bone white neck scales and her angular head held high. Coruwen felt the air become so thick with tension that one could cut it with a knife. The amber eyes of the dragoness bore down upon Coruwen, making her feel tiny and meek like a child before their parent. "I have something to tell you."

Arwen halted beside Coruwen and let out a whimper of fright. Coruwen took her hand in hers in assurance. "What is it, Freya?" Coruwen asked in a calm voice.

"I am leaving," Freya replied flatly. The remark caught Coruwen off guard and she stared up at the dragoness in disbelief. Before she could say anything Freya continued, "I will be returning to the homeland of my people, and where Glaurung was slain."

"But Freya-," Coruwen felt her heart drop out of her chest. Why was Freya leaving? Had she done something to invoke this? The dragon lowered her nose down to Coruwen's level, meeting her eyes. The amber, fire like eyes of Freya were endearing and kind. "What have I done?"

"You have done nothing, my dear one." Freya cooed bumping Coruwen with her nose. "I am a dragon, not a pet. I am the last of my kin, and I would like to live out the rest of my days in the Parched Heath."

Coruwen's forehead rested against the broad, scaly nose of Freya with her heart heavy with grief. Her slender hands ran across the rosewood scales that were smooth like river stones. Her nails scraped the scales of Freya's nose as she withheld tears.

"Freya, why?" Coruwen whispered.

Freya rumbled in her chest, and shut her eyes as she nudged Coruwen again. "My dear one, I will truly never leave you… I would not do that to someone I care about. You mean a great to me, just as much as Smaug. But you must understand I am no pet."

Coruwen nodded slowly and felt Freya's nose slip away from her fingers as she raised her head up into the sky. The dragoness' lips curled up in a small smile as she gazed down at her elleth.

"I am sorry, Freya. I understand that being the last of your kind is hard, and I have forgotten that fact about you." Coruwen extended hand up for Freya to touch with her chin. "I will miss you, my Queen."

"I will return to you, my little elleth," Freya unfurled her wings from her sides as she padded away. The muscles in her shoulders flexed pulling the dragoness into the air with one heavy launch of her back haunches, and there Freya hovered with the wind at her mercy. "Good bye, Dear one!"

Coruwen placed her hand over her heart and then raised it to the air. An elven gesture of farewell. The dragoness raised her head allowing her scales to catch the light, and they glittered in the clouded sunlight before she flew off to the North. Arwen placed a hand on Coruwen's shoulder as Freya passed out of sight.

"Coruwen, are you all right?" Arwen asked.

"I am fine," She replied shortly. As she turned to face Arwen, she saw faint grief in her stormy eyes. "Do not tell me you are leaving too."

Arwen shut her eyes, nodding. "I cannot linger here. Ada sent a hawk the other day telling me to return to Imladris. I do not know when I am to be leaving, or if someone will come and fetch me." Arwen stated with sadness cracking her soft voice.

"Arwen…"

"I was sent to heal people, and to check upon you. I know you won't leave Thorin until he has regained his position as King of Erebor, but I cannot stay here until that happens."

"I see, and you do not know if the twins come to fetch or not?"

"No… I do not even know if it is the twins that will be fetching me."

Coruwen sighed. "Knowing your father, he sent the escort four days ahead of that hawk."

Arwen let out a little laugh, nodding. "Come; let us return to the others."

The women returned to the tent to see Thorin and Kili standing side by side, speaking to Balin. Arwen let out a quiet scoff as she walked over to Fili, but Coruwen laughed under her breath. Typical Thorin. She twirled a piece of her gold hair with two fingers as she thought over Balin's previous question.

Where would she go after the royal line of Durin was restored to Erebor?

Her fingers pulled on the golden wave straightening it out and when she released it fell back into a gentle, rolling wave. Her mind was split in many different directions, and her heart's adamant decision wasn't making it any easier. Her heart told her to stay… Stay with him. However, that would go against the laws of her people.

Why should she care? In Lórien, she had few people she considered friends. It was Imladris that she had the issue with; Arwen, Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond were people the people she cared for.

The touch of someone drew her gaze downward to Thorin, who was resting his hand against her own. It made her jump a bit, but his grip tightened around her hand. He looked up at her with curiosity showing in his eyes. Gently, she let her hand slip free of his and she withdrew from his side. She felt slightly guilty for doing such a thing, and saw the clear confusion in his expression. Thorin's eyes narrowed in confusion, but returned to Balin when the elder started speaking again.

Coruwen turned and left the tent with guilt blooming in her heart. She came to stop just outside of the encampment where she could see the crunched grass where Freya had been laying. She sat on the ground with her legs tucked beneath her and shook her head. Her hands tightened around the folds of her dress as confusion bet down on her like a ton of rocks. The cold wind bit at her hands and back as she sat in the grass for a long while trying to piece together everything that as in disarray. The confusion was so strong that it prevented her from thinking clearly, thus making her feel helpless.

Behind her she heard heavy footfalls, though they were slightly muffled by the grass and wind she knew who they belonged to. Why couldn't he leave her alone in her grief? Her vision could see Kili and Thorin walking up to her, but she did not acknowledge them with movement. No, she wanted to be left perfectly alone.

"Coruwen, what was that about?" Thorin asked sternly. Coruwen flinched at the severity of his tone. Still she refused to look at him, nor would she answer him. Confusion was already prominent, and irritation was boiling up in her blood like embers growing into a roaring fire. The wind turned and buffeted her face, tossing her gold hair backward and pricking the tips of her ears. The wind was bitter and almost holding ice in its storm. "Answer me."

Coruwen pulled her cloak tighter around her, and she pulled her hood over her head. Her fingers were turning numb from the cold as they rubbed the navy blue cloth and silver stitching. Irritation flared when she heard the two come closer.

"I asked you a question… Now, tell me why you left," Thorin said.

"Uncle, let it be-," Kili was cut off by Thorin growling at him. A loud thump was heard followed by a rustling of cloth. Coruwen figured that Kili must've let Thorin go off on his own if he was so adamant about speaking to her. She let out a muted scoff when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

Fingers pulled on strands of her hair and side of her cloak gently. Thorin's roughened fingers graced her jaw, and then began to trace her pointed ear. "What have I done to invoke your mistrust?" He whispered.

Coruwen's gaze snapped to his, and saw that it was still stern. Her own was fierce and angry for she was done with him prodding her at this moment in time. Her hand slapped away his touch from her, and she glared at him darkly.

"It does not concern you," Coruwen snapped.

Thorin raised an eyebrow to the remark as her gaze returned to watching the wind toss the bare limbs of the scorched trees. What had he done to invoke this behavior from her? He had treated her fairly as of late. His eyes looked her up and down, curiously searching for an explanation to this behavior. Her lithe form shook before him, in anger or confusion he knew not. Regardless, he did not desire to see her like this. Her slender fingers flexed, which were a faint red from the cold.

"I know not what I have done to you, but if I can fix it," He said.

Coruwen sighed. "It is Arwen and my people."

Thorin's brow furrowed in confusion, "You are not going to stay?"

"I do not know if I will or not." Coruwen replied sadly. "It is not because I do not care for you. It is because of my people's customs. To love one of your kind would be as if I committed a terrible crime; I would most likely be exiled."

"You have stayed with me this long, Coruwen." Thorin reached up and took the side of her face so he could look at her. Her blue eyes were dark with confusion, anger, and sadness. She was so fragile after he and the boys had nearly graced death. He could see she was torn between the two things she loved most in this world. "The boys and I greatly enjoy your presence, but would understand if you must leave to be with your people."

Coruwen shut her eyes and leaned into him, resting her head on his uninjured shoulder. He could feel her shake beneath his touch, and gently he wrapped his hands around both of hers. He believed she still feared that he would slip away from her. Thorin rested his chin on her head as she nuzzled him.

"I feel like a fool," Coruwen muttered. "I do not know why this haunts me. One would think that I would know the answer, but I can't seem to bring myself to that conclusion."

"You're going to stress yourself again; stop it," Thorin replied. "You do not have to hold the answer now, and maybe you will never know. I have certainly felt the same as of you once or twice in my life…"

Yes, once or twice was an understatement. He was confused as it was with _that. _He placed his hands on her back to pull her closer to him. "Thorin, I-I…"

He took her face in his hands, and saw her breaking before him. Her sky blue eyes tinted red and her cheeks stained by tears. Confusion hurt when you could not depict that which your mind told you, and that of your heart's law. "Love, you do not have to cry." His thumbs ran across her cheeks. "You are not bound to me."

"I cannot bring myself to leave you and the boys…"

"Then do not leave."

"What will my father think of me then?" She gripped his shoulder, digging her nails into him. Had he not been wearing a thick tunic she certainly would've dug into his skin. She shook her head sending her gold hair into her eyes and face. "I am so confused, completely and utterly confused! I hate this."

Thorin sighed shortly and began to think of ideas to stop her from over thinking everything. She was under stress as it was, and this silly idea wasn't alleviating it. She was like this, and he had seen it before in Mirkwood when she had helped them escape. It was there that he had come to terms with himself, and showed her what he truly felt for her.

Coruwen was an elf, a being that felt every little thing that had heartbeat in this world. He knew she responded to him differently, almost as if his inner most thoughts had melded with her. Then it hit him.

This sadness, confusion, anger, everything that she was showing outwardly was his current subconscious. To some this would make no sense, and it barely made any to him, but it seemed to make the most sense.

"Coruwen, my heart, stop this," Thorin whispered kissing her forehead. She froze beneath his touch, and then he her felt her relax in his grip further. Mentally, he sighed in relief. "You are not typically like this, and whatever is plaguing you needs to stop. It hurts me to see you broken." Her chin rested n his chest as she gazed up at him, and for once she was calm. "My fierce, beautiful queen broken before me. It is a punishment I do not desire."

"Thorin, I'm sorry," Coruwen breathed.

Thorin glanced over at Kili, who was facing away from them, picking grass blades out of the ground. Quickly, he kissed her lips and she laced one arm around his neck to deepen it. He broke away from her suddenly, and when she gave him a look of puzzlement he gestured to Kili.

Coruwen's fingers stroked the back of his neck, which sent fire across his skin. "Are you going to stay?" He asked quietly. Coruwen kissed him lightly with a serene smile on her face.

"I will stay by your side, my love," She replied. Thorin took a strand of her gold hair in his fingers, feeling the smoothness of it in his hands. He jumped when her frostbitten hand pressed itself to the back of his neck. He gave her a forced smile attempting to ignore it, but a playful grin came to her lips.

"What are you doing?"Thorin inquired, trying to force the edginess out of his voice, but it did not stop it from happening. Coruwen let out a little, mischievous laugh when her other hand crept up the side of his sleeve and began to trace the muscles on his arm. "Coruwen, you know I hate your little elf games."

"Whoever said they were games?" Coruwen kissed his cheek. "If you let me be beside you, you're going to have to get used to my ways of play."

"Woman, one day you will be the death of me."

"One day, love of mine."

Coruwen gasped quietly as his hand touched her low back, and traced the outline of her scars that ran across her hipline. She glared at him, while he chuckled at her reaction. "Then get used to mine as well."

He rubbed her back with his knuckles and she pressed herself closer to him. Out of his side vision, Thorin saw Kili sit up abruptly meaning there was someone approaching. Thorin withdrew his hand from Coruwen's back, but before she stood he kissed her temple. The kiss made her smile and fade in a short moment.

"Kili, who is coming?" Thorin asked as Coruwen helped him stand.

Kili turned around with shock on his face. It puzzled Thorin a great deal to see his nephew like this. The lad glanced over his shoulder and then at the two, and then did a double take.

"Kili, who is coming up to us?" Coruwen asked, keeping her tone even.

Kili moved aside and Coruwen's heart stopped when the man came up the hill. Long dark hair, storm grey eyes, and dark red robes came to her sight. The man smiled fondly at her, and then gave Thorin a bow of his head. Thorin and Coruwen shared a look between them before the man spoke.

"It is good to see you, little robin," The man said smoothly.

Coruwen shook herself free of the shock, and spoke, "Lord Elrond…"

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this, and I will be seeing you in a few days! Please review, because I love them and they push me to write more and they always warm my heart. :) **

**3insteinComplex: I love to hear that you love it! :) All will come in time, and in the words of Freya. "Patience, Dear One..."**


	4. Chapter 4

_Decisions_

* * *

Elrond stood before the three with a pleasant smile on his face. He was surprised to find Coruwen sitting up here and not with Arwen. Coruwen stood and walked up to him with puzzlement written over her young face.

"Lord Elrond, what are you doing here?" Coruwen asked.

Elrond let out a small laugh, knowing that the elleth was sharp. However, it seemed to have left her when he caught her off guard. "I am here to fetch my daughter, Coruwen. And you if you see fit." Elrond replied.

"Arwen said-,"

"You should know my ways of taking on an escort, little one."

Coruwen gave him an apprehensive look, and then smiled wryly. "I thought so…"

"Ever the clever one, aren't you?" Elrond took her dainty hands in his, and gave them an assuring pat. "Come along, my lady."

Coruwen glanced over her shoulder, and then gave Elrond a motion to go on without her. She watched Elrond disappear down the hill and she let out a small sigh of relief. She walked back to camp with Thorin and Kili, but as she saw Elladan, Elrohir, and Erestor; her heart sank in her chest.

Upon a dark bay horse sat Bard with Fili behind him. The company was scattered about the remains of the camp and giving the elves from Imladris dark looks. Arwen had moved beside her brothers with her face downcast. Coruwen felt the sadness coming off of her in waves when she looked upon her friend.

"_Are you coming with us?" _Elrohir asked flipping through the pages of his small book. His dark hair was braided on the sides, but one could not see it because he wore his hood pulled over his head.

Coruwen sighed, feeling the overwhelming force of her statement rise up in her chest. The words stung her mind, but she bit back the surging grief that writhed within her. _"I am not…" _She stated clearly. Erestor let out a small noise in response while Elladan stared at her with confused interest. _"Maybe another day I will return, but it is not this day." _

"_Are you mad?" _Elladan snapped. Arwen grabbed his arm to stop her brother, but he ripped his arm free. Anger marred his face, and Coruwen faced him knowing that Elladan would rouse anger in her as well. _"You do not belong with these people! You are an elf of Lothlórien, and a lady of the court." _

"_What does that have to do with anything?" _

Elladan gripped her wrist using every bit of strength he possessed to hold her firm. Her heart had made up its mind, and she was following her path that she set. Gently, she pulled on Elladan's fingers to release his grip from her arm. _"You are making a mistake, Coruwen." _

"_Who is there to stop me?" _

Elladan opened his mouth to object, but stopped his speech quickly. Coruwen saw him take a step back to remove his hand from her wrist. Her anger had flared easily, but now it only boiled underneath her skin. _"You're right, make your own mistakes." _Elladan rasped.

Coruwen's heart jolted painfully at his words, and saw the astonishment on the faces of Arwen and Elrohir. He had just cast her aside. She knew that when she took up following Thorin that it would entail this. It was inevitable. The people of Imladris and Lothlórien would cast her aside now, and would not look at her. It hurt her; however what can one do against such a difficult decision?

Elladan whirled around to leave with Erestor following him. Arwen gave her a sympathetic glance as she was led by the hand away from Coruwen by Elrohir, who had the same look of pity in his eyes. Elladan was like Lord Elros in his anger. Coruwen felt a hand rest on her shoulder, and she glanced up to search the fair face of Elrond. His grey eyes were fond as he left her to leave with his people back to Imladris, and then the severity of the whole ordeal slapped her across the face.

"Lady Coruwen?" Bard's voice asked, concerned.

Coruwen felt her knees buckle and she collapsed onto the ground unable to fathom the heartache that clawed at her. A small hand came to rest on her shoulder, and her slender one came to rest on top of it. Bilbo watched her with concern in his brown eyes.

"Coruwen, are you going to be all right?" Bilbo asked.

"I will be fine, Bilbo," Coruwen replied gently, forcing the sorrow from her voice. The dark sorrow clawed at her heart viciously, digging into her soul with its claws to tear down her mind's walls and break them from the inside out. "Go on ahead… All of you."

"If you say so," Bilbo whispered. His little hand slipped off of her shoulder and the sound of horse hooves drifted off into the winter winds. Silently, she composed herself with ringing her colds hands over and over in nervousness. A pair of arms encircled her from behind and she leaned back into the broad chest of Thorin.

"Why didn't you leave?" Coruwen inquired somberly.

Thorin rested his chin on her shoulder to look at her passive face. In her sky blue eyes, he saw deeply etched sorrow and longing. He kissed her cheek softly to hopefully draw her attention from the passing of her friends, but to no avail.

"I did not leave because I know you would've let yourself fall into grief again. And that is all you have been doing as of late, being a grieving ghost of the woman I care for." Thorin said gently. Coruwen turned her gaze to him, and smiled sadly. "Be happy, my dear. I know it pains you to be like this, for it brings you no happiness or recognition. I know that the others do not enjoy seeing you pained this much. Let the days of sorrow pass."

"It is easier said than done, Thorin." Coruwen replied.

He laughed at her sarcastic tone. "So it is…" He took her face with one hand and felt her lean into the endearing touch. "At least try, Coruwen."

"Right…" He released his grip from her and let her stand. Her gaze searched Erebor and a smile lit her face. "Let us be on our way then."

Coruwen whistled shrilly for Faenaur, who came trotting up to her with his head tossing back his long mane of white. The horse was handsome befitting his lady quite well in their personalities. Faenaur kneeled down to the ground and gave Thorin a nudge in the hip.

"No," Thorin said firmly, looking between Faenaur and Coruwen. "I am not riding on that horse."

Coruwen laughed at him, which only furthered his irritation. "Thorin, he doesn't bite. If anything, I promise he won't throw us." She comforted.

Thorin let out a growl in response to her, in which she clicked her tongue for Faenaur to stand back up. The palomino stood and let her mount him with ease. The horse tossed his head at Thorin again this time stamping one shoed hoof into the dirt, which kicked up dust.

Now, one would know that dwarves harbor great distrust for horses, and what Coruwen did is something one should never do a dwarf unless they wish to get yelled at.

Coruwen smirked, rolling her eyes at her beloved's adamant nature. She clicked her tongue again and Faenaur walked towards Thorin, and passing him by Coruwen picked him up by his collar and settled him behind her. His dark blue eyes narrowed in anger at her, as she threw her head back in laughter.

"I'm going to get you back for this," Thorin muttered angrily as Faenaur cantered off to Erebor's slopes.

"You can get me back all you want later, but you can only walk, need I remind you." Coruwen said. Her spirit felt light for while she toyed with Thorin, but when silence drifted in-between them her heart grew heavy with sorrow once more. A question prodded her for a long while Faenaur rode up the leading pathway before the gates. "Thorin, when will you be crowned as king?"

Thorin blinked in curiosity at the random question, and thought it over. "When I am ample enough, I suppose." He replied slowly for even he was unsure of the question. Balin had given him a timeline several times, but it all slipped away so quickly. "Why do you ask?"

Coruwen's head shook, sending her wavy hair swaying into his face. He batted it out his face so he could listen to her. "Just curious, I never heard of anything of the sort." She replied curtly. "It must be nerve wracking to regain this lost kingdom after it being lost for so long."

Thorin's grip tightened around her, and she white knuckled the reins of her horse when he did so. She had no idea how much it bothered him to have lost this kingdom to a dragon. To have it back was a godsend from Mahal. Faenaur halted before the gates and he slid down with Coruwen following. Faenaur tossed his head at them with a whinny as he turned to leave back down the slopes.

"I will be right behind you," Coruwen said with a gesture to go inside. Thorin gazed up at the iron doors that were blackened by pitch and felt assurance rise up in his soul. He had gained back that which he had fought so long for… His lost home. Though it was in shambles, one could fix it easily with enough effort.

His heart sank when he saw Dain Ironfoot standing beside Balin. Dain's face was set into a grimace, and it was typical of the lord to appear. Thorin walked up to Dain, and the lord clapped him on the shoulder with one gloved hand. The lord stated he would stay until Erebor was restored to its former glory with every piece picked back up and in its rightful place.

"Then what of Dale?" Balin inquired. Thorin let out a short breath, feeling his side burn when he shifted from side to the other. "We cannot simply abandon that city, for it sits at the base of our mountain."

"Aye, that it does," Thorin replied. His mind was piecing together what to do. Bard would need assistance wherever he could take it currently. Thranduil had not offered any help, which was understandable for the Elvenking. The king glanced over his shoulder at Coruwen, who was running her fingers across the iron doors of Erebor. She was fascinated with everything he wondered what al she had _not_ found out about this mountain. "Coruwen, come here."

The elleth walked up to his side with interest in her blue eyes. Her hands folded behind her back as she gave him a slight nod in response. "Would you stay with Bard and his people until the two cities are restored? I would not typically send you away, but we are spread thin currently." He stated.

Coruwen smiled at him, "Of course, I would gladly stay with the Lord until all is finished."

With that problem solved, he looked to Dain and Balin again since they seemed to have a general idea of what needed to be done. He knew little of the plan, having only gained pieces and parts from Balin in the past few days. Dain's men were all ready starting to remove fallen rubble from areas which required a good amount of them to remove the chunks that fell when Smaug and Freya had toppled them over.

_So much must be done._

Thorin's eyes fell on Bard as he came up a flight of stairs with his heavy cloak billowing behind him like a shadow. The young lord was stretched thin by the stress etched in his face, but that did not stop him from having a faint smile on his face. The lord was departing Erebor when Thorin stopped him.

"Bard, wait a moment," Thorin said, halting Bard in his tracks. The lord walked up to him and gave him a slight incline of his head to continue speaking. The words that came to Thorin's mind hurt greatly, but it had to be done. "I am sending Lady Coruwen with you to help with rebuilding Dale."

Bard's eyes went wide in disbelief. Had he heard the king correctly? The King under the Mountain was sending his Elven Lady with _him_?He was confused. "Are you toying with me?" Bard asked, his voice becoming quiet.

"Would I toy with you when I sending that which I care for away?" Thorin snapped. Bard let out squeak when the king's voice became harsh, slowly he corralled his emotions. He was being mentally slashed with a knife for sending his love away. His heart tightened as he watched Bard slowly realize his words. "I trust you with her."

"Your trust will not be misplaced, Thorin," Bard replied with a bow of his head. Coruwen walked up to Bard, and gave him a small bow of her head. "Come, my lady."

Bard and Coruwen departed Erebor upon their horses, and he felt a hand rest on his shoulder in silent reassurance. Glancing over his shoulder, Thorin saw Gloín looking at him curiously.

"Are you going to be all right?" Gloín asked. "You didn't have to send her away, you know."

"It had to be done." Thorin muttered as he shooed off Gloín's hand. "I cannot send any of you away with the current status of our kingdom."

"That is understandable, Thorin. However, we've been noticing how you've been fighting to keep her near you," Gloín replied. The warrior had a pitiful glint in his eye that Thorin did not desire to fall upon him. A small growl escaped the king's throat as Gloín kept speaking. "All right, all right."

* * *

Bilbo fidgeted with his ring in his small hands as he listened to Fili scold Kili to leave him and go help Thorin. The two shared one mind sometimes, and sometimes they would two separate people like they are now. Bilbo had been with these dwarves so much now that he knew that Kili was the more caring one, and helped in whatever way he could while Fili acted more like his uncle, an independent person.

"Kili, for the love of Durin, go before I have Dain drag you," Fili growled. Bilbo got a funny mental picture and held back a laugh by chewing on his cheek. Kili gave his brother a pitiful look, and Fili fidgeted uneasily. "Do not give me the puppy eyes."

"But, Fili," Kili muttered.

Fili pointed at the door. "Go, now." The older one ordered. Kili slinked out of the room like a sorry dog and disappeared quietly. "I will never understand my brother."

"Few do," Bilbo put in quietly. Fili scoffed while rubbing his bandaged shoulder. "How long has Thorin been working on Erebor now?"

Fili turned his gaze on Bilbo. The hobbit dropped his ring back into his pocket as Fili eyed him with interest. The dwarf sat back against the headboard of the bed while counting on his fingers. "Few months by now. I would like to be helping them, but Oín says I can't do anything until my leg is fixed." Fili replied with a grumble.

Bilbo let out a chuckle at Fili's disdain for lying around. The young one wanted to be free and help his uncle, but couldn't because of his broken leg. The leg had two clean breaks in it, one in his shin and the other on his femur. This made it nearly impossible for Fili to do anything besides lie around, talk, and read.

As the months had gone by, Bilbo had noticed that Coruwen was rarely present anymore. They would see her a few times with Bard, but besides that he rarely ever saw his Elven Lady. He missed her terribly, so terribly that it hurt.

"By Mahal, I hate this," Fili cursed. "Master Baggins, there's a book Ori left on that table. Could you bring it to me?"

Bilbo search through the piles of paper and books to find the one that had not been thrown half way across the room all ready, and brought it to Fili. He skimmed the pages and mild interest came to his features when he was reading.

"Do you think that Thorin will have Coruwen by his side forever?" Bilbo asked randomly. Fili glanced up and then back down at his book while a soft smile came to his face. "Why are you smiling?"

"What you don't know, Master Baggins. The better," Fili replied playfully.

Bilbo shook his head. "Well, now you get to tell me because you opened your mouth," The hobbit grumbled.

Fili let out a chuckle, and set his book down. "From what Kili has told me, one of these days _it_ is going to happen. When that day comes, all of your questions shall be answered."

Bilbo pursed his lips in thought. It wasn't entirely fair, but the dwarf has given him some information, so he couldn't say that Fili had given him nothing. The hobbit ran a hand through his curly hair, giving it a slight shake as his fingers reached the ends. "What is 'it'?"

Fili shrugged. "I only heard it from Kili, and that's the word he used too. I'm in the same boat." Bilbo gawked at Fili with a bemused expression on his face. "By your expression, I can see you're confused."

Bilbo rubbed his face in slow circles. "You think?"

"Yeah, I do." Fili shook his head a bit. "Trust me, I do not try and understand Uncle sometimes. He does everything so differently."

Bilbo tilted his head in agreement, because Fili was right. Half of the time, Bilbo didn't understand anything Thorin did. Not without explaining all of the processes; which took up an insanely stupid amount of time.

"I have heard that Dale is just about fixed," Fili stated, flipping through the pages of his book again. Bilbo glanced up, and let out a simple noise in response. He stood and walked over to the hearth and prodded the glowing embers with the end of a metal rod. Lately, snow had fallen and the winter's biting air whistled through the stone walls of Erebor easily that many were cold. Even through the heavy coat of fur and leather Bilbo wore, he could still feel winter's freezing grip on his skin. Fili sat up abruptly with eyes gleaming with understanding. "You know, I bet you anything that's where Thorin sent her."

"What?" Bilbo asked turning away from the red glow of the fire.

Fili swept his gold hair from his face with nervous fingers. "Thorin sent Coruwen down to help Bard, I bet you." Fili stated again. Bilbo stared at him in confusion, not knowing what the lad was speaking on and on about. Fili let out a grumble, sounding an awful lot like Thorin when he did so. Bilbo held back a laugh when the dwarf sighed. "We haven't been seeing Coruwen because she's been with Bard this whole time."

"Why would Thorin send her with Bard? He is far too protective of her," Bilbo said with a snort. "You know the relationship those two have, they practically can't be separated from the other."

"Bilbo, where's your trust in Uncle? While it's common knowledge to know that the two care for each other. One wouldn't think that he'd send her with the Lord of Dale, no?"

"Not really, no."

Fili swatted the air. "Anyway, you should go see how everything is going, and come report back."

Bilbo opened his mouth to object, but knew that Fili would win regardless. The hobbit slinked out of the room and made his way up a flight of stairs that passed through several halls and corridors. Several doors were open revealing dwarves rebuilding the insides where Smaug had caved them in.

One door in particular stood open with no noise coming from within. It was dead silent, so silent that could hear doors banging against the upper halls. Bilbo poked his head in and saw Ori organizing books into piles on one side, and another young dwarf sat on the opposite side of the room rifling through piles of aged parchment. Bilbo shook his head; Ori was still a book loving youngling.

He passed down a corridor that had recently been opened up and led to the main hall where Bilbo typically would see Thorin or Dain walking around in. The stone walls were still rough from having other stone rubbed up against them. Bilbo ran his hand across the stone feeling the rough stone beneath his palm. It scratched his hand and he recoiled back revealing a small cut upon his small palm where the stone had cut him.

"It's always the little cuts," Bilbo cursed holding the cut closed with his fingers. The wound stung like bee sting and burned when open air hit it. Bilbo ignored the cut on his palm as he walked down the remainder of the corridor and walked out into the main hall where he saw Bombur and Bofur picking up a wooden bench and moving it to an alcove.

Bilbo heard Thorin's baritone voice and darted back into the corridor, fearing he would get into trouble if Thorin found out that he had left Fili alone. The hobbit contained his frazzled nerves by smoothing his golden ring in his pocket over and over. Thorin walked into the main hall with Bard and Dain behind him. The young Lord of Dale seemed quite laid back as he listened to Thorin speak, which was a surprise seeing as most were still uneasy around Thorin.

Intently, Bilbo picked up on the conversation between the lords. "Dale has been finished then?" Dain inquired setting his ax hilt on the floor. Bard straightened out his cloak around him so it lay correctly on his shoulders. He was fidgeting, uneasy in his spot. Bilbo would've been too if he had been in Bard's place with The King under the Mountain and the Lord of the Iron Hills staring up at you.

"Yes, it has. I am forever grateful to what the two of you have done for my people," Bard replied smoothly. "We will rebuild Esgaroth as an outpost for those who still desire to live there, but most will live in Dale. Should we need assistance, will you help us?"

"Of course," Thorin said with a bow of his head. Bilbo smiled at the sight of the king being at peace with everything around him. Well, most of it. Coruwen still hadn't returned to Erebor since Dale had been restored.

Bilbo noticed something on Bard's person that seemed odd. The glitter of steel drew his gaze to a second sword scabbard at his side. The pommel of his normal sword rested up against his side, but the second one lingered behind a great deal. From Bilbo knew of the young Lord, Bard did not carry two swords. Nor did he use swords often. It was rather peculiar to the hobbit, and made him want to reach out and grab it.

"Lady Coruwen wishes for me to tell you that she will be returning to the mountain by late this afternoon." Bard stated clearly. Dain's ax rapped the ground once as he shifted. "And I have something for you, King under the Mountain from her ladyship."

Bilbo watched Bard remove a leather wrapped bundle from his side, the same side that had the second scabbard. He passed it to Thorin, who removed the bindings to reveal dark brown scabbard with a wave like piece of metal that adorned the hilt.

It was Orcrist.

Thorin smiled down at the sword as if it were an old friend. His fingers wrapped around the hilt and pulled Orcrist free of its sheath. The metal being released let out a bell like ring into the main hall, and the elegantly curved blade was held high.

"Tell Lady Coruwen thank you, Bard," Thorin said as he sheathed Orcrist.

"I will do so, Thorin," Bard replied as he left the main hall. As the lord left the hall, Bilbo slinked back to Fili's room quietly. Happiness was bursting from the hobbit as he returned to find Fili still reading his book with an unmatched fervor.

"How is everything?" Fili asked flatly, his eyes never leaving the pages of his book.

"Almost finished, or from where I wandered everything look about done. Dale is finished, Coruwen is coming back, and Orcrist was returned to Thorin," Bilbo reported. Fili dropped his book and bolted upright. His light blue eyes twinkled with happiness. "Excited much?"

"Orcrist is back, you say? Bet that made Uncle happy, he loved that sword," Fili smiled, leaning back into the pillows. "It's good to know that Coruwen is coming back too, but Orcrist? I never thought we'd get that sword back since the Elvenking got his grubby paws on it."

"At least he didn't obtain Glamdring, or anything."

"I think Mister Gandalf would have Thranduil's head on a plate if he touched that sword," Fili chuckled and grabbed his book again. "Anyway, tell me when Coruwen gets here."

Bilbo finally asked Fili the question that had been bugging him for hours now. "What is in that book?"

Fili's eyes rose over the top of the book, and he let out a sigh. "It's the story of Freya and Scatha. I've been reading this since Kili found it the other day, but I forgot that I threw it at Uncle last night." The dwarf shrugged. "Oops."

Bilbo shook his head and returned to his chair and began to play with his gold ring again. Occasionally, Fili would tell him little facts that he had learned about while reading his book, all of which Bilbo found interesting to hear about. The hobbit was busy listening to the quiet crackle of flames in the hearth when the door opened to reveal Ori and Kili.

"Coruwen's here," Ori stated happily. Kili walked over to Fili and helped him stand, which when he bumped his injured leg he flinched in his brother's grip. Bilbo hurried after Ori, who stopped before the main hall where Coruwen stood with her hands barely touching the iron doors.

"Coruwen, you're back," Bilbo said as he walked up to her. She smiled and kneeled down to his level. He felt her dress's hem grace his feet as she placed one dainty hand on the side of his face.

"It is good to be back, my little hobbit," Coruwen replied, ruffling his hair. He swatted her hand playfully as she stood back to her full height. Bilbo saw Thorin come to her side and give her an incline of his head in greeting. "It is good to see you, my king."

Steadily, the company greeted the return of their lady back to Erebor. Heir welcomes were warm, and it made her smile. By Bilbo's reckoning, she had been gone for nearly four months to be with Bard down in Dale. He felt like he was gazing up at her for the first time again. Her gold hair had become darker since winter had come and was passing, and she wore a dress of lavender purple. She was beautiful…

Her eyes searched the halls with high interest as she walked down a corridor. "Very well done," She complimented as she returned to her place by the iron doors. She passed a hand through her gold hair, and sighed. "It is late, and I have been running myself ragged trying to help the women of Dale earlier today. I will see all of you in the morning."

Bilbo watched her depart down a hallway and he heard the sound of a door shut and quietly songs began to fill the halls again. Bilbo went to bed shortly after Coruwen had disappeared and did not wake to any sound or noise that came to him.

* * *

Coruwen sat on a sofa running her hands across the fabric of a dark blue tunic that a woman had given her before she departed Dale. The fabric was heavy, but soft. Bard had ferried all of her belongings up to Erebor earlier that day, and thus all of it had been moved in her room. It was one of the few rooms that had a balcony that overlooked the vast landscape of the East. The door to her bedroom was cracked open, but she had no desire to venture in there currently. It was relieving to be back among her friends again; even if she was physically exhausted.

She dropped the tunic and folded it back up in the parcel it had been placed in. Gently, she began to pull strands of her blonde hair down to work them into small braids. She worked two or three into one longer one and upon finishing her last braid a knock came to her door.

"Enter," She said clearly as she let go of her hair. Her door opened to reveal Thorin standing before her. He entered her room and shut the door behind him. "Do you need something?"

Thorin shook his head while he walked up to her. There was something off about him that she noticed, but could not quite put her finger on. She watched him intently for a second as he came to sit next to her.

"There is something bothering you, I can feel it," Coruwen said firmly.

Thorin's dark blue eyes searched her face and then fell on his lap. Coruwen shifted so she could rest her chin on his shoulder. His fingers rested on her own, and he traced small circles on her slender hand.

"You know me all too well now to keep anything away, I suppose," Thorin said quietly. "I did not mean to send you away for so long. Had I known you were going to be gone for so long…"

Coruwen smiled and shook her head. "It does not mean anything to me. I would have gotten in the way here." Coruwen comforted. "But that is not what has been bothering you. Tell me what truly bothers you."

"You and I have been chasing after each other for a long while now," Thorin replied slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. Coruwen took notice to his eyes that did not rise to her face. It made her curiosity spike to what he spoke of. "And what I am about to ask you do not have to answer to."

It was then that Thorin's blue eyes rose to her face. It startled her how dark they were with seriousness. They were practically the color of cobalt, and she shrunk beneath his gaze. He cupped her face in both hands, running his thumbs across her cheeks.

"Would you allow me to court you?" Thorin asked.

Coruwen's eyes went wide, and her heart skipped several beats. Her body froze up as well as her mind. She dropped her eyes to his chest, and could not piece together thoughts currently. What few words did escape her lungs were gibberish, word of being confused.

"Coruwen, I understand if you do not-," Thorin was cut off by her eyes rising to his own again.

She had found her words when he tried to back away from her. Her heart had made up the decision the split second he had tried to revoke his words. "Yes," She whispered. Relief flashed in his eyes when her words came to him. He brought her closer to him, and crushed her lips with his. The happiness that surged through him flowed into her, and she placed her hands on either side of his face.

When they broke away, he pressed firm kisses onto her lips and stopped when he heard her fighting for air. She rested her forehead against his, shutting her eyes as her heart beat at an ungodly fast rate.

"Are you all right?" Thorin asked brushing her face with the back of his hand. Coruwen opened her eyes, staring into the depths of his dark blue ones which were filled with love.

"I am fine, love." Coruwen panted. His arms encircled her to pull her closer to him. She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin and the beat of his heart underneath her hand, "Just short of breath."

"I feared you would reject me," He muttered. Coruwen tipped her head to the side in interest. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, which he placed a slightly firmer one on her own. "I suppose that was doubt plaguing me again."

"I would not reject you… I would never push you away, nor hurt you in that manner," Coruwen felt his grip tighten around her as he rested his face in the crook of her neck. She rested her head against his, feeling her heartstrings begin to ache. "It is not who I am…"

"That is true, my heart." His hands stroked her back while he rested his chin on her chest. "My beautiful love." A small, seductive smile came to her lips as she twirled a piece of his hair, and he kissed her collarbone with feather like kisses. "One day, I will have you so deeply etched in my mind that I will be able to remember you without any thought."

Coruwen pulled his lips to hers again with a lingering kiss before she spoke, "One day…" He rested his chin on her head, and nestled his face in her gold hair. She let out a little laugh that drew his gaze back to her. Her lithe frame shook with mirth and he tilted his head to the side with a bemused expression on his face.

"What?" Thorin asked. Coruwen wrapped her arms around his neck with her laugh still rising in her lungs. Her laugh brought a smile to his face when she laughed into his neck. "What are you laughing about?"

Coruwen pulled away from him and shook her head. "Nothing, I'm just happy." She laughed. His hands ran across her gold hair and then rested on her low back. As her laugh died down, he felt her go limp in his arms. "I love you…"

Thorin let out a chuckle and kissed her hair. "I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: *claps hands* Ok, not much to say besides the usual thank yo everybody because all of you are awesome. :) Oh, wait a moment, on my profile is the big question that needs to be answered for those of you who are going to be reading Dragon Queen. It is a big question that needs so answering, it a poll, so go check it out! **

**_drovingallday96: _I am super glad to hear from you! Thank you for sticking with me all through this, and I am overjoyed to hear about you loving this one all ready. In all honesty, I DID NOT enjoy writing that ending simply because I cried like ten times and had to back off. I followed what Prof. Tolkien wrote sadly, even though I got all choked up. The main reason I wrote this story was because I was like "what would happen if they had lived?"This is what came forth. Hope to see you review again :) **

**_Please review. _**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Sun and Moon_**

* * *

Upon the following months came a relative peace within the stony halls of Erebor. Winter has warmed over into spring during that time in which Thorin had reclaimed his rightful place as King under the Mountain. The days from there on were the days of the king as the people of Gondor would put it. Coruwen found herself happy to be with her king. News of their courtship had remained surprisingly low within the tightly knit groups within the kingdom.

Upon the first month of spring, Dís had arrived with a large group of dwarves from Ered Luin. All of which oriented themselves into the kingdom.

Gandalf and Bilbo had left in between the arrival of Dís and the coronation of Thorin. The two were left with farewells, and the promises of return upon a later date. The dwarves of the Iron Hills left with Dain shortly after Gandalf departed taking a little back with them considering the fact that many desired to stay.

Upon this warm spring day, Coruwen sat on her balcony with a book reading over the contents slowly. It felt like years since she had last looked at the infinite knowledge of books. In Imladris, she had free reign over Elrond's library which contained knowledge beyond number. Erestor and Glorfindel would often stay with her for company, but Erestor would end up being the one that stayed at her side. She smiled at the thought of the ellon, who took knowledge seriously in every count. Glorfindel would often tease him by calling him a book worm, but in all honesty Erestor didn't care.

A quiet creak made Coruwen's ears tune into the sound of rustling cloth and muffled voices behind her door. Her eyes never left the book, knowing full well who was behind the door. She knew that Thorin was in a meeting and would not be returning for some time, thus leaving her with only two options. Two very entertaining options, mind you.

"Boys, I know you're there," Coruwen stated flatly.

Fili's head poked through the doorway with a small pout on his face. Kili was behind him holding back fits of laughter. Having removed her gaze from her book, she saw that the two were slightly amused. It showed more on Fili's face than his brother's. The ever maturing Fili had a small spark of amusement in his eyes that she caught quite quickly. It pleased her to see him like this. He was separating himself from Kili more and more, which gave him a free mind of his own.

"What is the two of you need?" Coruwen asked as she dog eared a page. Kili stared at her in shock. Ori would kill her if he found out she was dog earring pages.

"Nothing." She caught the nonchalant, 'there's something' tone in his voice that Dís used.

"Fili, you are your mother's son," Coruwen laughed. The lad laughed under his breath with a ever so slight shake of the head. "Now, what is it the two of you need?"

"Would you mind going with Squirrel to the archery range? I need to join Uncle in his meeting," Fili stated. Kili ducked his head in embarrassment, covering his eyes with his hands. "As you can clearly see he is being bashful."

Kili punched his brother in the arm. "Shut up," Kili said through his seething anger. Fili rubbed his arm where Kili had hit him, and looked at Coruwen for an answer.

"I'd love to," Coruwen replied as she leapt down from the ledge.

Her heart and soul had been at ease lately. Ever since Thorin had beginning courting her she had been happy, it seemed almost like a daze to her. She did not know where this sudden unnatural enlightenment came from or how it graced her, but she was enjoying its presence. Fili and Kili left the room with her as she grabbed her bow and quiver from its place at her bedside. The smooth yew wood felt foreign to her since she could not pull the bowstring back as far as she used to since the Goblin King had ripped the flesh from her arm. Nonetheless, it did not stop her from using it.

Fili departed them as Kili led her outside to a large outstretch of rock where she spied many young children shooting small bows with toy arrows at their parents or older siblings. Her heart warmed at the sight of children; even with the children of her own kind she saw them as small blessings from the Valar and Eru.

"How's your arm?" Kili asked as he pulled an arrow back all the way to his cheek. Coruwen's hand went up to her arm instinctively. The scar that marred her arm was large and unsightly; she hated it with passion.

"It's seen better days, Kili," Coruwen murmured. The soft clunk of the arrow shaft embedding itself in the target made her glance up to see Kili's arrow had met its mark dead center. "Excellent shot."

Kili beamed up at her with a cocky smirk before letting another arrow lose, this time with a faster snap that made her cringe. Haldir and Orophin used to fire arrows like that, as if lightning had snapped loose of their bows. She could never do that. Rumil told her it took years of messing up and hitting little critters to fire that fast. Kili's arrow had fallen short of the target in whole and snapped in two before a rock. The young dwarf let out a growl before running over to the snapped arrow.

Coruwen grabbed an arrow from her quiver, pulling back as far as her arm would let before it started to tremor. When the scar made her arm shake and wobble from the lack of strength she fired, splitting Kili's arrow down the middle.

The heir's head snapped up to stare at the awe of her splitting his arrow down the middle. He glared at her when he removed the arrows. Pride filled her when she swept back clutching her left arm while massaging the scar. The muscle felt fibrous, almost stringy due to it being atrophied. Her elven pride was damaged as a result of the Goblin's punishment for not speaking to him when he told her to.

"Not fair," Kili droned as she stepped aside for him. She found him being flustered amusing since he acted like Dís when he did it. His face became hard and his gold eyes darkened to a deep shade of amber. He steadily fired arrows into the target whilst sulking. A young girl came over to him and sat by Coruwen's feet to watch Kili.

"Kili, love," Coruwen said, smiling. Kili turned one gold eye to her, and fired his last arrow. She gestured down to the little red headed dwarf girl that watched Kili with admiration. Her green eyes were big like a puppy's as she watched Kili. The heir of Durin knelt down to the little girl's level and she slinked away shyly. Heartbroken, Kili went back to firing arrows while humming a song to himself. "He isn't going to scare you away, little one."

The little girl blushed with a pout on her face when she looked up at Coruwen. She tugged at the hems of her cream dress in frustration. Coruwen could see her bright red hair turn practically to fire when she became angered. This was amusing to her. She knelt down to the girl's level and tucked one red ringlet behind the girl's ear affectionately. She desired children of her own so much that it hurt her heartstrings.

"What is your name, little one?" Coruwen asked

The girl's emerald eyes rose up to Coruwen's, and her pout faded slightly. "Sol," The girl replied shortly.

"That's a pretty name, it befits you," Coruwen told her softly. "You are named after the sun?"

"Aye," Sol muttered. "Why are you talking to me, Miss Elf? Mama told me not to talk to elves because they are good for nothing liars."

Coruwen let out a sputtering cough at how much disdain dwarves had for her kind. Kili must've heard it because he hesitated before firing his last arrow. "Well, Sol, I will not lie to you. This I swear."

Sol cocked her head to the side. "But Mama said Elves lie… They didn't help us when we were forced from this mountain," Sol whispered in disbelief. Her little hands unwound themselves from her cream dress, and worked her curly red hair.

"Is your mother here, Sol?"

Sol shook her head. "Nay, she is coming with my Papa to Erebor from Belegost. My brother, Mani brought me here from Belegost earlier this month with Lady Dís."

"I've met Mani," Kili said over his shoulder. Sol's eyes darted to the ground in bashfulness as Kili looked at her. Coruwen smiled at Sol's crush on Kili. The heir smirked and threw his bow over his shoulder. "He's about my height, dirty blonde hair, smart aleck?"

Sol threw her head back in wild laughter. "Aye, that's him all right!"

Kili chuckled as he dug around in his quiver for an arrow. He withdrew a knife and widdled on the arrow's wooden shaft carefully. He was engraving something in the arrow, but Coruwen didn't know what. Sol watched him intently with her head cocked to the side, a growing smile on her face. She was small for a dwarf girl, a bit fragile as Balin would put it. She would be no bigger than an elfling girl when Coruwen looked at her. Her hair was frizzy and bright red like fire hanging in fluffy ringlets around her chubby face.

Kili knelt before Sol and pressed the arrow into her tiny hand with a gentle smile on his face. Sol's green eyes widened in shock as Kili squeezed her hand. "If you desire to be an archer of greatness like I am, then let this arrow teach you to never abandon your path," Kili told her.

Sol's cheeks turned as red as her hair when Kili's hand drifted off of hers, and she ran off. Coruwen chuckled and rested her hand on Kili's shoulder. "Someone has an admirer." She said blissfully.

Kili's cheeks became pink and he whirled around to avoid her. She twirled one of his braids with two fingers. He swatted her hand away. "She's too young for me anyhow." Kili grunted. "Her brother is a twit, and her parents aren't in good graces with my mother."

"Are you saying Dís might rip their heads off?"

"Sol's mother at the very least. That woman was called Mother a harlot."

Coruwen's eyes widened at the statement's severity. To call a princess a harlot is like dancing with death. Especially if that person is Dís, who is just as short tempered as Thorin was; quite possibly more if you made her angry enough. Kili rested his head against her arm, gently playing with the long flowing sleeve. The cloth was light green and sheer. Despite it being spring, in Erebor it was oddly cold from the altitude height. Thus, Coruwen had to wear cloaks to keep herself from freezing to death.

"When are Uncle and Fili going to be done with that meeting?" Kili asked under his breath. Coruwen shifted her gaze down to him noticing his stiff back and shoulder pulled back to straighten his posture. She saw much of the line of Durin in this type of posture and gruffness. "It's only a simple meeting of kin, isn't it?"

"I do not know. Thorin told me little of what he was doing this morning," Coruwen simply replied. Kili sighed shortly in frustration as he listened to her. She could sense his impatience, there was little she could so to quell it now.

"Ah well, what can I do? I may be an Heir to the throne, but I'm still young as Mom puts it," Kili snorted as he ran his fingers across the ebony tinted feathers of his arrows. What could he do? He was forced to the bottom of the food chain because of age, again. It was bothersome, stupid, and he saw no point in it. Coruwen could see his contradictions flaring in his eyes. "Damn age…" He heaved a deep sigh that made him calm down a bit. "I'm surprised Uncle hasn't been spending time with you as of late. With what your status' are currently."

Yes, he was courting her still. Coruwen smiled at the thought of him. The king always brought a smile to her face when she thought of him. The love he gave her was fiery, but he halted himself when he felt himself slipping too far over the boundaries he mentally set. He had done it the other day in fact. He had started to become lost when he kissed her and held her close to him. Coruwen saw his eyes always open and darken when he halted himself in his advances. Thorin was never unsure of anything before, or at least as long as she had known him. With her, he was so precarious now.

This, mind you, isn't a bad thing since it is better to be slow than fast in ones advances. Coruwen smiled as she ran a hand across Kili's brown hair. He reminded her of Thorin physically; while Fili acted like him in spirit.

The sound of a door opening and shutting made Coruwen look up from Kili. Fili, Thorin, and Balin entered the archery range. Thorin was dressed in a tunic of burgundy with a light coat on his shoulders. Silver metal gleamed on the tunic's design and upon his back was Orcrist with a polished pommel and newly wrapped hilt. The crown of his forefathers had yet to be found, which angered him greatly, but he found himself not desiring it as much as he thought.

"How did it go?" Coruwen asked. She sat herself on a rock, her fingertips running along the tight bowstring. Balin let out a stressed noise and leaned against the door. The meeting was a bust by the elder's crestfallen expression. "Not well, I assume."

"Damn Belegost's leader's holier than thou attitude," Fili scoffed. "If he wasn't so busy on his cloud, we might've gotten things done." Edginess tainted Fili's voice as he cursed the existence of Belegost's leader. Thorin, however, remained quiet. His eyes were shut whilst Fili ranted on and on. Fili threw his hands up in the air in defeat as he collapsed to the ground. "But oh no, he just had to open his bloody mouth and talk down to us. I'm surprised Thorin didn't chop his head off with Orcrist."

"What point would there be in that?" Thorin said evenly. "His blood is all ready tainted, trust me."

"He has a son?" Fili asked in disbelief.

Balin nodded. "Aye, his name is Vanir. Only a few days old, but nonetheless a son that will rule Belegost." Balin stated. Fili sighed angrily, shaking his head. "Lad, calm down. The man leaves in a few days, and then he'll be out of our hair."

"Thank Mahal," Fili murmured as he came to stand beside his brother. Coruwen had never heard Fili curse another's existence before. He was often very quiet in his cursing. This meant that the leader of Belegost had insulted Thorin or his family in some regard.

"Fili, what is the name of the leader?" Coruwen asked out of curiosity.

Fili let out a short breath before speaking, "Amren."

"Ah," Coruwen replied. She did not pry further knowing that Fili was containing his anger in slow strides. A hand pressed itself against the small of her back gently making her gaze fall on Thorin, who had silently walked up to her while she was focused on Fili. His hand was barely touching her back but she could feel the heat of his hand on her regardless. He was watching someone from a distance; she could see it in his eyes as he watched the distance instead of the boys or Balin.

It was then that Coruwen saw who he was watching. A dwarf to be no older than he with dark hair and a friendly smile. Coruwen had met this dwarf before; his name was Ralof. He was a smith that had come from Ered Luin with Dís. Coruwen saw Thorin's disposition change from relaxed to possessive in a split second whenever Ralof neared them the tightening of his jaw and ever so slight movement of weight made Coruwen know that he was being protective.

"_Meleth nîn_, he won't do anything," Coruwen soothed. She placed a hand at the base of his neck and rubbed his neck in slow circles to calm him. Thorin's posture changed to one of calmness, but regardless he still had a defensive fire in his eyes. She found his protectiveness overbearing, but put up with it considering it was typical of dwarf men to act this way. Thorin glanced up at her, and then it swiveled back to the smith. "Freya was right; you were a dragon in another life."

Thorin's gaze snapped instantly to hers. She smirked playfully and withdrew her hand from his neck. "Do not mock me," Thorin warned. "You know why I am this way."

Coruwen shook her head, sighing. "Yes, I know. Ralof is a friend of mine, and would no more try to take me from you than fly." In fact, the smith didn't even see her in that light. For one thing the dwarf didn't even know she was the Lady of Thorin. The dwarf just saw her often and would talk to her. Thus, by some twisted piece of fate, Thorin saw him a threat. "The man is honorable, but I do not see him in the same light as you." She ran her hand down his arm to place her fingers on his knuckles. "I am sure there are others for him amongst your people, my dragon."

Thorin scoffed, turning away from her to watch Ralof again. He would never learn since he was so obstinate. Coruwen removed her hand to let it rest in her lap. "What all have you been up to since I left?" He asked quietly.

"Mostly reading, but I came out here with Kili not too long ago to keep him company while he practiced his archery." She smiled with a Cheshire like grin. "Kili has a little admirer running about."

Thorin raised one dark eyebrow to that ending piece of information.

"Her name is Sol, sister to Mani. She's a bit too young, only about ten, but she loves him as if he were old enough for her."

Thorin chuckled. "Let me guess, he played her a bit, didn't he?"

Coruwen rested her chin on his shoulder. "You could say that." She sat up straight again to make sure nothing else bad happened while they were outside. "Aside from that, I have little."

Thorin opened his mouth to respond, but Kili interjected into their conversation. "Uncle, Coruwen split my arrow straight down the shaft." Kili blurted. In his hand, were the roughly carved arrow of Kili and the elegant arrow belonging to Coruwen splitting it straight down to the arrow's head. Thorin smirked at the sight of the arrow's precision. "You owe me another arrow, Coruwen!"

"When I have time, Kili," Coruwen replied.

"You better remember," Kili said with a goofy grin. He wasn't truly meaning it; he only did it to give her a hard time like the little troublemaker he was. The sound of a door opening and closing drew everyone's attention to a young dwarf, not older than Kili, come storming out to the range with Sol behind him. It was Mani. He had dirty blonde hair that was braided back, and his green eyes were dark with an unknown emotion. Mani was the child of a weapon smith, and acted just as so. His tongue was sharp like his swords, and his words blunt like his maces.

"Mani, please!" Sol cried tugging on her brother's pant leg trying to halt him in his tracks. Her little voice cracked as she dug her heels into the ground and pulled on Mani with all of her strength and he stopped. Coruwen watched from a distance with her fingers hovering over her quiver in case of a problem. Mani raised a hand to smack Sol, who ducked preparing for the blow but saw an arrow whistle past his ear. Both Kili and Coruwen had their bows raised in to protect Sol. The arrow that had left its bow belonged to Coruwen.

"Try that again, and I won't miss," Coruwen warned.

"And what would an elf know of anything!" Mani snapped. His hand rested at his side and Sol darted behind Kili. "My sister has told me that you lied to her, elf."

"I have done no such thing," Coruwen retorted. Her tone became threatening ever so slowly. She did not wish to hurt Mani in any form with Sol watching. "Your sister put her trust in me, thus I gave her no lies."

"All know that elves lie the minute they speak, and you are no different!" Mani barked. It was then that Coruwen saw Thorin's posture become offensive as Mani threatened her. She was half tempted to unleash Thorin on the lad, but knew that she had prove herself capable of dealing with these people. "Sol, come here."

"No!" Sol shouted as she hid behind Kili, who placed a hand on her head in protection. "This elf was nice to me, and you can't seem to let father's grudge down from on high!"

Mani's face was marred by a hideous snarl as he glared at his sister. "Sol to me." He hissed.

"She does not have to listen to you," Kili defended. "She is her own person."

Mani rolled his eyes as he glanced at Kili. "No do not get in this fight, brainless." Mani deadpanned. "Or I'll hurt you."

"Excuse me?" Fili asked, his tone darkened. "By what right do you have the ability to command _my_ brother?"

"By my own damn right, that's what! Now stay outta this, Blondie."

Coruwen gripped Thorin's jacket as he attempted to lunge at Mani for his insolence. Thorin's eyes were dark with anger and he was practically snorting smoke could he do it. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she gave him a shake of her head to wait.

"Elf, I do not know why you're here, but if you are trying to whore your way into the royal family then I suggest you leave now before someone finds you out." Mani spat. His lips curled back in a devious smile. "I know you have heard the rumors about you being a harlot. You're pathetic and a whore."

Coruwen raised one eyebrow. "And what you said is a lie." She replied evenly. She glanced at Kili. "Kili, take Sol inside and stay with her." Kili scooped Sol up in his arms and ran inside. Coruwen released Thorin's coat collar and leapt down from her place on her rock. Slowly, she withdrew an arrow. "For a boy who knows little of this world to mock me is a fool's mistake. I have not done what you speak of, in fact you're sources are foolish. They are simply rumors, and rumors are the tidings of women who have little to do with their time but sit around and pick on others."

She heard the unsheathing of metal, and she sighed. "Now, I will let you live if you take back your statement."

Mani scoffed loudly, "What can you do?! You're an elf and a sorry, good for nothing harlot! You know I'm right, I can see it in your eyes!"

Coruwen glanced back at Thorin, who was beyond livid. He was seeing red and his temper far gone. He had behaved as she had asked, holding his tongue that so desperately desired to rip this boy apart limb from limb. Orcrist gleamed in the light of a passing cloud and soon the world became grey with the passing of a cloud obscuring the sun's happy light.

From her bow sung two arrows into the shoulders of Mani while Thorin ran up and ran Orcrist through him. The crime Mani had committed warranted death in the law of Erebor. It was a crime that Thorin saw unforgivable. Coruwen saw blood pool out from Mani's corpse as it bled like a stuck pig. With love comes a price.

"Damn him let Mandos grant him not comfort!" Thorin snarled. He wiped Orcrist clean with a leather cloth as he kicked Mani's body. "If you call my woman a harlot you shall lose your head,"

Coruwen saw him storm past her and rest at Balin's side. Even Balin, who was normally calm and collected, had slightly unsheathed his blade when Mani had threatened Coruwen's status. Fili walked up to Mani and dragged his body over to the ledge to drop it over the side when Sol came bursting out of the doors. She gasped in horror and Kili held her close to him as she screamed bloody murder into the air.

"What have you done?!" Sol wailed. "You killed Mani!"

Coruwen walked up to Sol, kneeling down to her level. "Sol, you're brother committed a crime most foul. This was its punishment." She soothed. There was no comfort she could give Sol as she wept for her brother. Sol threw her arms around Kili's neck as he came up to her. He cradled the girl against his chest as she wept onto his shoulder. On her back and through her cream dress, Coruwen saw purple bruises that seemed fresh. People bet this poor girl. She backed away and walked up to Thorin.

"Sol's family is beating her, or at least Mani did," She said quietly. Her heart broke into pieces when she had heard Sol's wail of despair. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Her parents will be coming in a few weeks, but until then she will be under the care of Gloín's wife, Borni." Balin stated. "Poor girl."

"It had to be done," Thorin said shortly. His disposition had relaxed a great deal after he had stabbed Mani, so much that he appeared calm again. Thorin walked up to Sol and Kili, placing a hand on the girl's bruised back. "It will be all right, little princess."

Sol turned around with her green eyes rimmed red, and she sniffed. "Great King, I am sorry for brother's harshness. Please do not do anything to me!" Sol cried. Thorin smiled softly, petting her red hair. Sol stiffened under his gentle touch. "What?"

"We have someone who will watch over you until your parents come," Thorin comforted. "You are awfully brave for one so small."

Sol bowed her head to him but tears still feel from her eyes. "Thank you."

"Kili, take her to Borni and tell her the story. She will gladly help this little one," Thorin instructed. Kili nodded and pushed Sol higher up on his shoulder so she could see over him. The two disappeared behind the door and into Erebor, while Thorin returned to Coruwen's side.

"Maybe we went too far, by no means did I suspect I would traumatize her," She said as she took Thorin's hand. His eyes darkened at the thought, and his jaw muscles clenched. "Love, I know we can't take that back, but it seems morally wrong."

"He called you a whore and harlot. No woman of mine shall be called such foul names. Should anyone call such names again let them know that I will personally kill them with my own sword."

"Thorin…"

He growled. "No, I saw the look in your eye as she shot him. You hated it as well. It was wrong and hurtful, no?"

Coruwen nodded. "And it was supposed to. He was trying to spite me, and almost succeeded." She gripped his hand. "To kill a person for such childish name calling is almost silly. If it had been any other name I would've simply shot their shin, but I suppose he deserved so much more."

"Death was calling him anyhow…"

Coruwen hung her head, shaking her head. It seemed so wrong to judge people by their antics, but that is how the world runs. Mani was the voice of the darker people of Erebor that had tried to spite her. Oh yes, they had spited her. So much so that Thorin had gotten involved and killed a young man because of the lad voicing his disapproval. Sadly, Coruwen found that Thorin had been right. Such names warranted death or exile. If Mani had stopped with his harsh words sooner; Thorin have simply exiled him.

But then what of Sol? She had done no wrong, and she was still young. The punishment for her brother's foul words would've more than likely killed her.

"Do not linger on about him, Lass," Balin said. His hand still rested on the pommel of his sword protectively. "They will get used to you eventually."

"Eventually…" Coruwen whispered. Her head shook a bit knowing how tough dwarves could be when they did not wish to do something. She felt Thorin's hand tighten around hers when he heard her voice. "Ever stubborn are your people."

"You sound like Gandalf," Thorin muttered playfully. "Do not start speaking in riddles."

Coruwen smiled, "I can if you continue to bug me. It is not that difficult."

Kili reappeared without Sol and he had a grim look on his face. He was slightly unnerved by Mani's death. This was made apparent by the dark amber of his eyes and the way he did not look up at the others.

"Poor thing is scared half way into her grave," Kili said in a grave tone. "Her soul's fire has gone out… Or so I believe."

Coruwen sighed, "I highly doubt it. She has a lot of fire, just like the person she is named after."

"Person?" Fili inquired.

"Sol was a warrior, a shield maiden of the Dúnedan. Sol and Mani are also two star constellations that are seen in winter and summer." Thorin stated. He glanced up at the sun that peeked through the grey shield of clouds. "She'll be fine…"

Coruwen felt the confidence rise back in the air. It was strong again when Thorin had spoken about the sun and moon. Despair brings forth Confidence. Fear calls on its cousin Bravery. And upon this day the Sun had broke its ties with the Moon…

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**A/N: And when I give happy, I must give unhappy! This chapter shows a major wrench that is thrown into the works... **

**Sol and Mani literally are taken from Norse Myth. Sol is the Sun Goddess and is chased by Skoll. Mani, the Moon God, is chased Hati. Sadly, Mani was swallowed by Hati early on, thus breaking his ties with his sister. We will be seeing Sol again, later on. Keep her in mind as we continue on. **

**Please Review. **


	6. Chapter 6

_The King and the Lionheart_

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Ori picked up a lone book, added to the pile he had growing in his arms and picked up another. When he saw the flash of folded parchment he sighed. When would she learn? Ori didn't care that Coruwen was the Lady of Thorin or not. These books were his life, and if she went around folding pages he might need to ban her from the library permanently. Or just tell her no… But the latter never succeeded. Ori tossed the book onto the pile, and he walked down the halls quietly. He found himself waking before everyone else to complete his rounds as book keeper and chronicler.

When he passed Coruwen's room he heard a soft melody from within. He smiled faintly at the sound of the music. So much so that he forgot about the teetering pile of books in his arms that toppled over in a comical series of plunks. Ori groaned as he stared up at the high stone ceiling before a book clouded his sight.

This was silly.

Coruwen's door opened and she picked up t he books while watching Ori out of the corner of her eye. He was motionless, probably fed up with the books. She removed the one that sat on his head with slow movement fearing she would bother him in some way. Ori's brown eyes gazed past her to the ceiling, affixed on it like it was some jewel.

"Ori, are you all right?" Coruwen asked warily. She placed the books in a pile, and Ori had yet to move. She frowned as she walked up to him, and with a gentle swat she woke him up. The boy could sleep with his eyes open much like elves, it was strange. Ori jolted awake; within seconds he was gone with his books back to his library cave.

Coruwen flicked her gaze around, and from the sounds that came up from below she assumed that at least Balin would be up. She returned to her room and changed into a dress fashioned of pale blue and black. She slipped her boots on considering she would be climbing up to the gate.

The elleth found it strange that she had lasted this long in the mountain kingdom. Her soul would occasionally drift back to the gold leaved mallorn trees of Lórien, or the rivers of Imladris, but she reminded herself that she was an outcast now. Those thoughts hurt. Oh so very much. She placed a hand over her heart.

After much grief stricken thought, Coruwen left her room to walk up to the gates. Oddly, she found Dís up on the gates. The princess had not heard her yet; in fact she was watching the horizon. The sun was up over the hills with few clouds. Dís' hair was dark like her brother's and it was wavy. Her eyes were the color of blue topaz with hints of grey in them.

"Dís," Coruwen said. Dís let out a gasp and whirled around with fear across her face. Dís' face became calm when she realized it was Coruwen. Dís placed a hand over her beating heart with one small breath, she lowered her hand. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

Dís shook her head. "It's fine. I didn't suspect anyone to be up right now," Dís stated. She placed her elbows back on the railing, letting out a breath. "I heard about my brother killing a man because he called you a harlot."

Coruwen's chest had a pang of pain race through it like an arrow. Mani's death, how could she forget? Coruwen settled beside Dís and leaned against the rail. Dís watched her out of the corner of her eye wearily. The elf was perplexed by the darkening of her blue eyes, along with the way her hair hung in her eyes.

"I apologize for my brother being overbearing… Let me tell you, he means well. He is just… Protective." Dís said feeling a bit ashamed.

Coruwen shook her head, hearing the shame in Dís' voice. "Dís, you do not need to be ashamed of his actions. Thorin was defending me, simple as that." She comforted. Coruwen placed a hand on Dís' shoulder, and the princess' shoulders sagged under her touch. "What is bothering you?"

"It is the fact that my brother has never defended another woman besides me before like that. Granted, he protected our mother when she was threatened, but never has he defended a woman outside of our family."

"I see…"

Dís sighed, running her hands across the stone rail. "I feel like I should've done something to stop him. I know that Mani's words were harsh, but killing someone is a bit extreme, don't you agree?"

Coruwen nodded slowly. "I agreed with Thorin to prevent an argument, but it was wrong. Mani had a little sister…"

"I know of the young Sol. She is strong, but not strong enough to deal with the sight of her brother dead before her." Dís' shoulders shook as she thought of Frerin. "I have seen death before… Many times in fact. Seeing Frerin dead was enough for me, and the death of my mother was even worse."

Coruwen placed a hand on Dís' shoulder, and the princess placed her own over the elleth's. This is what little comfort Coruwen could give Dís currently. The elleth heard footsteps coming up the stairs that led up to the gate, and she could not depict who they belonged to for her attention was focused on Dís. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin come up the steps.

"Dís?" Thorin inquired. He wearily approached his sister, who turned to face him with her head hung low. He took his sister's shoulders firmly, trying to piece together what was wrong. "What is the matter?"

Coruwen disappeared from sight allowing the two to be alone. When she came to the end of the stairwell, she found Dwalin and Balin standing in the shadows of the archways. It made her wonder why they were doing down here.

"Why are-?" Coruwen asked.

Balin motioned upward to where Dís was, and then he spoke, "It was this day that Frerin died in the battle against Azog. Dís watched him pass in her arms and she could do nothing. The lass may appear strong, but in truth she is breaking each time this day passes."

"That is truly terrible," Coruwen muttered as she leaned against the archway. "I tried to console her, but I do not know of what she has faced. I did what I could."

"And we give you credit for that, Coruwen," Balin replied. "Let Thorin deal with her now."

The two departed after a long while of standing and only listening to the wind pass through across the banners. Coruwen sat on the steps waiting for one of them to come down. None came down in the first hour. Her hands played with the sleeve of her dress as she began to think what may have occurred.

To lose a brother is horrible enough; to lose them in one's arms in even worse. Her hands twitched as if she were holding onto someone. Her heart silently went out to Dís and Thorin for losing Frerin. Footsteps made her glance behind her. Thorin was coming down the steps, his face set in a somber expression. She instinctively reached for his hand, which stopped him from straying away. Pity held her firm as he tried to move away.

"Thorin…" Coruwen started. His strength ceased when she spoke his name, which caught her off guard. He had given in so easily to her. "Talk to me."

"Elsewhere," Thorin whispered. She nodded and stood to follow him down the hall where he led her to his study. The room was dimly lit aside from the sunlight that came through a small window. Coruwen sat in a chair that was against the window where the sun streamed through. She saw Thorin walk over to a shelf, his fingers skimming the books' bindings. "I assume that Balin told you about Frerin?"

"He did…" Coruwen replied. "I am sorry about your brother, love."

Thorin withdrew a book with the shield of Durin on the front outlined in silver. His eyes flicked up to hers and became gentle before returning back to the book. He flipped through the pages with careful fingers, stopping on a page towards the back.

He handed her the book, which she took and found a picture of Thorin as a young man with another dwarf beside him that had a face similar to Fili's. Aside from the face, the dwarf had the dark hair of Thrain and the striking blue eyes. Coruwen assumed she was looking at Frerin.

Thorin wrapped an arm around her shoulders, glancing down at the pages. "My brother and I were close like the boys are. He was intuitive and intelligent beyond words, and where he got it from I will never know. He wasn't a fighter, yet he wanted to fight in the Battle for Moria, and my father let him. Dís and I didn't understand why he did it." Thorin's voice cracked in memory of his brother. "And we never did know."

Coruwen closed the book feeling the age in the cover and pages. She placed a hand over Thorin's that rested on her shoulder. "Do you blame yourself for his death?"

The look of sorrow took the king's eyes when she spoke. Despite what his mother and father had said; he and Dís blamed themselves for not keeping an eye of Frerin. It was _his_ fault that his little brother was dead… He felt it deep within his heart, and the boys reminded him of the pain when they would defend the other. His grip tightened around his love's shoulder and she tensed.

"I cannot deny that I do blame myself for my brother's death." Thorin said.

"It was his decision to fight, and you could do nothing to stop him." Coruwen took his face with one hand, forcing his gaze up to hers. "Do not blame yourself for a decision he made. More than likely he would have done the same, but would know that it was your choice."

"I cannot abandon my brother in such a way…"

"Let the dead rest, and rest shall come to you."

"You make it sound so easy." He removed his hand from her shoulder and took her hand. He ran his fingers across the palm of her hand; he could feel her fingers curl around his hand as he focused his attention on their hands. "You have never seen death, yet you know more than I about it."

"No, I have never seen it. But I have seen those around me grace it. To know death is to know that it is very real, and will take those you love in a way most cruel for it has a sick sense of humor."

He smiled. "You speak as if it were a person."

Coruwen laughed at his sly remark. "You could say that."

Thorin looked up at her as she controlled her laughter. He feathered a kiss on her hand which silenced her. As he removed his hand, he reached up and tucked a strand of gold hair behind her ear. The sun caught the gold waves that tumbled down her back lightening to appear as if it were formed of gold veins. He stood and walked away from her. Before he could walk past his desk, he was hugged from behind by her. Her weight shifted backward and they ended up on the floor.

Well, he was on the floor. She had rolled away after bringing him to the ground. Thorin was confused… One minute, he was standing at his desk. The next he was laying on his back on the floor. His eyes snapped to Coruwen, who was sitting on his desk with her legs crossed and a smirk on her face.

"Elf…" Thorin grumbled pulling himself onto his elbows to look at her. She wasn't fazed by that name anymore, and it was clear on her face. She looked at him still with the amused smirk on her face. "Fine, play your games."

He pulled himself up, and she tapped him with her boot in a play like manner. "Stick in the mud." She sang. He shot a dirty look at her before he grabbed her foot making her squeak in surprise.

"Am not," Thorin released his hold on her foot, and ran a hand up her leg. She didn't jump away or make a noise at the contact. She merely held her tongue as he touched the bare skin on her calf. It was then that she tapped his chin with her knee forcing his hand away. "You're acting like a child."

"As if…" Coruwen laughed taking his chin with one hand. He watched her gaze fall to his neck and curiously reach for the chain around his neck. His hand snapped to her hand and brought it to rest on his shoulder. "What?"

"Not yet." He kissed her lips softly, which she returned with a surprising amount of fervor. His hands rested on the small of her back as soft kisses became ones filled with fire. He kissed her neck, feeling his spirit pull towards her. It desired her; it took every bit of fight in him to keep it contained. As he feathered kisses on her neck, her nails dug into the back of his neck; digging into the clasp on the chain around him. He smiled when he had gotten this rise out of her.

The king didn't keep in mind that in their love's fire, Coruwen had undone the chain around his neck. His hands grasped her hips pulling her closer to him as she kissed his mouth. Thorin shut his eyes when she kissed his jaw with her thumb tracing his collarbone.

Something felt off…

Normally, he found have felt her grace the chain on his neck when she ran her hands across his chest. His hands drifted from her hips and up to her sides, and then brought one to trace the scars above the neckline of her dress. The necklace of his mother hung near it, shining like a star formed of dark blue and silver. His necklace was gone.

She kissed him greedily, forcing his attention away from whatever straying thoughts lingered in his mind. Gingerly, he tugged on the back of her dress and she jerked away from him.

"Thorin!" Coruwen scolded. Her face was flushed, and her eyes clouded over by love's harsh fire. "Why did you-?"

Thorin traced the chain of his mother's necklace around her neck with two fingers and she let out a small gasp when his pinky graced two scars. "Where is my necklace?" Thorin asked. He saw her jaw clench when his traced her scars one by one with a feather like touch. Coruwen gave him a forced smile, refusing to tell him. He came to kiss her scars along with her collarbone in the same fashion. Her breathing became rapid and shallow as he neared her neck. "I'll save you the trouble, if you just tell me."

He hovered over her, glancing up at her. Her eyes were half shut, and he continued with a small breath. He kissed her neck and nuzzled her. A small, quiet moan escaped her and she took his face quickly, thus halting him.

"Enough," Coruwen growled. Her breathing reverted back to normal as she looked into his eyes. "On the floor."

"Thank you," He replied. He knelt down and found the key residing still on the chain…

_No ring. _

Thorin let out a muffled growl as he searched for it. He bumped his head on Coruwen's boot which made him curse in Khuzdul. His hand searched underneath his desk frantically. He heard her jump onto the floor and she knelt beside him.

"What are you looking for?" She asked tugging on a strand of his hair.

"Nothing," He replied shortly. She tugged another strand of hair suggesting that she knew more than he presumed. The sparkle of her blue eyes assured his suspicions. When he swept his hand from underneath the desk, his fingers found the ring. They snatched it up in his hand so he could check if it was tarnished any way. "Coruwen, how long have I been courting you?"

She rested her chin on his head with her blue eyes watching him. "Ten months," Coruwen said. Her fingers ran through his dark hair that came to rest on his heart. "Have you lost track of time?"

"Slipped my mind," His hand wrapped around hers and placed a kiss on the back of it. "I have something to ask you."

"I will have answer then."

He chuckled as she walked around him to be at his side. Curiosity was written over her fair face as he took both of her hands. His heart was badgering to say the words that could not be voiced. "You know I am not good with words… But, I have loved you for a long while, and the longest standing title I gave you is what I ask you to become."

Coruwen eyed him as if he had lost his mind. That reaction he did not expect out of her, and he tightened his grip around her thin hands. Her grip was limp in his own; she was struck dumb by the question.

"Will you be my queen?"

He watched her blink in shock for a couple of seconds to mentally regain herself. His heart began to sink, feeling as if her silence was a sign of rejection. Did he say something wrong? Coruwen looked down at him, and he saw the happiness welling from her. It shined in her sky blue eyes as she smiled down at him.

She gave him a nod. He smiled and took her face in his hands. Tears had slipped from her eyes when he took her face, he kissed them away. Her arms wrapped around his neck in an embrace. Her face buried in his hair allowing him to stroke her hair.

"Love, look at me," Thorin whispered. Her arms loosened and she pulled away to meet his eyes. In his hand, he withdrew the mate to his own that rested upon his left hand. Her gaze fell on the ring in his hand as he brought it to the light. The ring was made of silver, and depicted the symbol of Erebor. The mountain and stars were outlined with gold, but only the stars were filled in with the brilliant color. "This ring has a mate, a twin. Just as these rings cannot be complete without the other; I am not complete without you."

"Thorin…" Coruwen murmured as her cheeks turned a deep pink. His hand took her right one and slid the ring onto her ring finger. A smile came to her lips when she looked at the ring, and then it traveled to the twin on his hand. It was made of the same silver, but outlined in silver instead of gold. She kissed his cheek, and then rested her forehead against his.

"I had planned on telling all of this to you later in the year, but it was beginning to nag at me." He traced the side of her face watching her eyes close at the touch, "My beautiful queen."

Coruwen opened her eyes at the sound of the namesake. They were a deep shade of topaz blue almost the color of Dís'. She smiled and placed a hand on his cheek. _"Rhui__gûr, nîn."_

He chuckled at the nickname. What little bits of Sindarin he knew; he could make out the words 'my' and 'heart'. "Rhui?"

"It means lion." She ran two fingers across his braids. "I called you my lion heart."

Thorin smiled and caught her right hand, kissing the pad of each of her fingers. She laughed and intertwined their fingers together. "If you see me in that light, then so be it. Then you are a golden lioness; more fair than all the others."

Coruwen laughed again, so much so that she was shaking as he held her close to him. He kissed her forehead when she nestled her face in the crook of his neck. His heart was light and overjoyed to have her as his now. Thorin could now tell Kili to stop badgering him, now that his own heart had ceased its annoying nagging. The woman in his arms was his now.

Yes, she was his. The king had his queen, the lion had his lioness, and the ring had its twin back.

* * *

**A/N: I hate writer's block! I hate it with a fiery passion! That is part of the reason why this a day late, and it shorter than normal. **

**The song I wrote this chapter to was _"Give Me Love"_ by Ed Sheeran. I don't know if it fits, but I am hooked on it. **

**IMPORTANT NOTE**** : If you guys wanna leave me some ideas on what the next chapter is going to be about then leave me a review. It will more than likely get used, because the idea train on this end is running short. I have an idea on what future chapters are going to be, but we aren't there. Yet. So pretty please, send me a review with your thoughts or ideas. **

**Remember, reviews are most welcomed! **

**Until next time, and please review. **


	7. Chapter 7

_Calling Back Old Allies_

* * *

Fili sat on the edge of his chair watching Sol and Kili closely, but from a safe distance. He tapped his fingers on the pommel of his sword as he thought over why Kili had taken an interest in Sol. Granted, she was practically a mini version of Dís with the flaming hair to match her personality, but why did Kili find her interesting? The wind sucked in a breath when the door to the archery range opened. Fili turned his gaze backward to see his mother standing in the doorway with deeply etched sadness in her topaz eyes.

Immediately, Fili was up and waiting for his mother to walk up to him. Dís walked past her eldest son with a looming shadow over her head. It was so massive that Fili could see it choking out his mother's happy spirit. He whirled around and walked over to his mother. Dís had sat herself in his chair, and hung her head.

"Mom?" Fili asked. His voice was gentle when he placed a hand on her shoulder. Dís leaned onto his hand. Deep within him he felt sadness blooming, surging when his mother had touched him. It was radiating from her like the sun. "Mom, what's the matter?"

Dís raised her head, turning to look at him. "Nothing, Fili," Dís lied. She was biting back a great sadness that could not be purged easily. He wrapped his arms around his mother's shoulders and felt her grip his back tightly. "My little boy… I'm so sorry."

Fili was dumbstruck. What was she sorry about? What had she done to be sorry? "Mom, have you lost your mind?" Fili questioned. Dís pulled away from him, her topaz eyes dark with motherly anger.

"Fili!"

"Sorry…" Fili shied away from his mother's dark gaze. "What is the matter?"

Dís' eyes became sad instantly. "It's nothing, just a bad memory, love." Her fingers ran through his gold hair with a small smile on her lips. The questions that dared to burst from him welled up in his throat tapping him with their greedy fingers. He swallowed them when he felt them travel up his voice box. His mother would tell him what she desired if she wanted to. "Have you seen your uncle?"

Fili's mouth fell open and a small noise came forth. "No… Haven't seen him since last night," He replied. "In fact, I haven't seen Coruwen either."

"Ah."

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

Fili placed a hand over his eyes. He understood many things, but one that eluded him still to this day were people of the opposite gender. It seemed childish to say, but they were so damned confusing. They were so fickle; it drove him to the verge of madness. "Mother…"

Dís patted his head softly. "One day you will understand women, little love."

Fili shook his head not trusting her judgment. His mind wandered to where Coruwen and Thorin might've have wandered off to; they rarely went anywhere out of sight nowadays. His suspicions cleared when the door opened again to reveal the two people he had been thinking of. Coruwen wore a smile of pure happiness on her fair face that made him curious. His uncle's eyes had a strange twinkle to them that was foreign in Fili's inner most thoughts. When the two were together, Thorin's mood became lighter and he would tease more often.

"There you two are," Dís laughed. "We had wondered if something had gotten a hold of you."

Coruwen laughed at the statement, a beautiful sound that sounded like music being played. Fili felt a smile creep up on his face when she laughed; he saw why Thorin loved her so. The woman before him was beautiful, almost goddess like. The way she laughed and sang sounded like angels, while her voice was firm but gentle. Her gold hair was always bright and her face fair like all elves, but it was her eyes that Fili found the most intriguing. They were the color of the sky with small tints of darker blue within like the swirling heavens.

"Believe me, we didn't wander to far," Coruwen commented. Her hand rested on Thorin's shoulder, and there was something off about her hand. Fili disliked staring but there was truly something off. "If we did, people would know."

Her voice became drowned out by Fili's surging curiosity. He narrowed his eyes when he spied a ring… A silver ring matching his uncle's in perfect detail. A Cheshire like grin formed on his face at the sight. Three words came to his mind instantly: About damned time.

"Fili?" Dís' voice drew his from his giddy state, crashing him back into reality with a hard clap. "Did you hear me?"

Fili opened his mouth though quickly shut it, shaking his head. "Sorry Mom," He admitted.

"I asked you if you could point Sol back to Borni, please," Dís said. Fili nodded and walked up to Sol, who had a small bow in her hands. They were red from the extensive training, but they gripped her bow with all of her might. Kili gave him a confident smile with an incline of his head.

"Borni is waiting for you through the door, to the left," Fili told Sol, who bowed before bouncing off to the door. Kili shouldered his bow with his fingers plucking the bowstring in habit. "Squirrel, stop it."

"My bow," Kili stated shortly as he walked over to his mother. Yet another item to add to the list: Kili. Fili sauntered after his brother and came to stand at his mother's side. "What is it you needed, Thorin?"

Thorin moved Coruwen's hand off of his shoulder and brought it to join his own. There was something about the two that seemed happy, and Fili understood why. A simple stupid question could cripple a man in nothing flat when it came down to asking it. "As the three of you know, I have been courting Coruwen for ten months now. What you may be asking is why the two of us disappeared for a few hours. The simple answer to that question is that I have asked Coruwen to be my queen."

Dís' eyes lit up at the sound of her brother's statement. "Oh by Mahal, that's wonderful!" Dís cried.

Kili was the only one that didn't speak, and Fili wondered if he was in shock. He smiled, "About damn time." Thorin gave him an incline of his head in response, which Fili took as a sign of 'I know'.

Fili swiveled his gaze to Kili a second time taking in his brother's bothered expression. Within seconds, Kili had run up to Coruwen and tackled her in a hug. "Thank Gods, you did that!" He laughed. Fili laughed at his brother's happiness. Coruwen ran her hands across his dark hair with a faint smile on her face that was on the verge of motherly.

"Question,"" Fili said Kili turned his attention back to his brother. "Are we calling back everyone?"

"Everyone?" Thorin and Coruwen asked in slight disbelief. The elleth had a puzzled expression pass in her eyes, almost stumped. The wind picked up tossing the silver banners awry in its frenzy, and one could hear silence's whispers above. Fili realized that time was key currently. Coruwen spoke instead of Thorin, "I suppose I could work a few things."

"Right," Fili replied with a bow of his head. His shoulder was gripped in a vice like grip that forced his gaze over to his younger brother. "Go away."

"You first," Kili deadpanned. Annoyance passed across his face when Kili spoke; stupid little brother. Fili swatted his brother in the arm forcing him away. Kili shot him a dirty look as he regained his ground. "Not funny."

"Shut it," Fili snapped. His voice calmed quickly when he turned his gaze to Thorin. "Any idea when we should send for them?"

Coruwen's eyes lit up at the sound of that. "We spoke of marrying on Durin's Day. Though it will come down to how fast the other can come," Thorin stated. "We have no idea where Freya is, and Bilbo could take a month or two to get here."

Dís gave her brother a stern look, which he didn't catch right away. When the two siblings' eyes met, Thorin tilted his head in curiosity. "Leave everything to me, Brother," Dís said confidently. The smile on her face was bright as she looked back at her sons. Fili felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that made him want to slink away. "Boys, you get to help."

"What?!" Kili piped.

Fili merely blinked in shock at the statement of his mother's order. He was doing what? Now, any child would never go against their mother's law and this, Fili knew all too well. Kili, however, had a bit more stupid in him than others. The younger silently fumed behind his mother with his arms crossed. Fili held back a smirk by chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"Kili, don't glare at me. You're not going to win," Dís laughed. Kili's mouth opened agape to object, but Dís whirled at gave him a stern glare. Fili slid off to the side letting his mother glare at his brother as much as she wanted. "Where do you think you get your stubbornness from, Kili? It certainly wasn't your father, let me tell you."

* * *

Behind Dís, Thorin was smiling while shaking his head. Kili was so damned bull headed that speaking to him was sometimes like speaking to a wall. There was no getting from point A to point B with the boy. Dís continued to tease her youngest son while he was mentally seething with anger. Thorin saw Fili staring at his mother with an amused expression on his face, but was hiding his laughter by staring off into space.

"The line of your family is ungodly stubborn," Coruwen remarked. Her fingers ran across his shoulders making him roll his shoulders back. He found it a bit silly that his sister desired to let her do everything, but then again… He couldn't stop her no matter how hard he tried. Dís was just _that_ stubborn.

"You think of yourself much better?" Thorin asked glancing up at her. Coruwen raised an eyebrow to him before a light pink dusted her cheeks. He chuckled at the sight while she hid within the confines of her gold hair. "Lioness…"

"Shut up," She growled. "I don't like you right now."

Thorin tugged on a strand of her hair making her squeak at the sudden movement. A sly smile came to his lips when her blue eyes caught anger's fire. "Stop it."

"You first…"

"I'm not the one acting like a child."

Coruwen swept aside her hair and swatted his shoulder, "Says you."

Thorin halted Coruwen's speech when Fili came to his side vision. The boy had a look of curiosity written across his face that Thorin found odd. "Fili, what's the matter?" He inquired.

Fili perked up at the question, his light blue eyes shining. "How are we going to get a message to Freya if she's up in the Northern Mountains?" Fili asked, carefully choosing his words.

Thorin glanced up at Coruwen for an answer seeing as Freya was _her_ dragon. Not his, hers. If he had any say in where Freya belonged, it would be beneath his blade. Granted, Freya was kind to him and his kinsmen, but she was a dragon. Moreover, a Daughter of Ancalagon the Black. Coruwen's blue eyes narrowed in thought and her hands came to rest on Thorin's shoulders again.

"The only way that I can think of would be to send a hawk. Freya can speak to animals, but they typically don't come near her," Coruwen stated.

"Frankly, I wouldn't either," Thorin murmured. Coruwen's nails dug into his coat at his quip. He dipped his shoulder gently prying off her nails. He didn't dare look up at his elven lady knowing that she would be glaring at him. "I suppose we could call for her."

"That's what I thought," Coruwen whispered. He was about to reach up and wrap an arm around her but halted when he saw that neither Dís nor Kili were present. What had he gotten himself into? A snicker was heard and he looked up at Coruwen, who had a small smile on her lips. "I'll send a hawk towards Freya, if you wouldn't mind coming with me."

Thorin sighed and took her hand. The cold of the twin rings on their hands bit at each others' skin as they came back into the halls of Erebor. In the higher levels, nearest the peak, there was an opening where thrushes, ravens, hawks, and other messenger birds would arrive and depart with haste. Röac was chief of this realm with his ever aging eyes and cantankerous personality; he ruled this roost with an iron claw. In his later years, his son and second command ruled over this roost also, but the ferocity was different.

Upon entering, thousands of swallows scattered like a rising gale of brown and cream feathers. Röac let out a loud squawk to calm them forcing many down to their posts among the heights. Röac was hunched over an oblong rail with his shoulders hunched to make him appear fierce, beside him sat a female and male raven. The son of Röac, Cairn greeted the King and Lady with pleasure hinting his young, baritone voice.

"Greetings to the King under the Mountain, and his future Queen," Cairn greeted. Cairn was quite handsome with sleek ebony feathers that glistened with strains of dark green and rich brown. His amber eyes were bright, almost the color of Freya's, with hints of green nearest the pupil. Thorin raised his forearm for Cairn to land on. The raven dug his talons into Thorin's coat, but minded how tight he gripped the king. "What brings you to the roost this day?"

"If you wouldn't mind letting us borrow a hawk, Cairn. We need to send a message to the Queen Dragon of Ered Mithrin," Coruwen said. Cairn's eyes lit up at the sound of hawk. He let out a deep crow, and from the tip of the ceiling came a female hawk with snow white and storm grey feathers. Coruwen let her land on her arm, and the hawk let out a screech.

"Meet Vasha," Cairn stated proudly. "She's a Mirkwood hawk, and will do just fine flying to meet the Great Queen. That is if Freya doesn't have a problem with hawks."

Coruwen shook her head. "Oh no, she'll do fine," Coruwen muttered. She scratched Vasha's chin while whispering Sindarin to the hawk. Once she finished, Vasha gave her a cock of her head wondering why the elleth had stopped. "Go on." The hawk leapt into the air with one grace thrust of her wings. The hawk turned north and sped off into the air.

"Thank you, Cairn," Thorin told the raven. Cairn bowed his head to Thorin, which made him smile. The raven had more courtesy than some of his people in one talon. Cairn leapt off of Thorin's forearm to his perch beside Röac. "It is good to see you, Röac."

Röac raised his balding head. "Aye, tis good to see you, my king," Röac spoke, his voice withering from age. "My boy is a good heir, don't you think?"

"Very much so," The king replied.

No reply came. Röac had lowered his head and tucked his beak beneath his wing. Age had treated the old bird harshly, no doubt from stress. Coruwen and Thorin left the room, but wondered how long it would take Freya to reach Erebor. It was a question that needed to be answered.

* * *

Throughout the day, news had reached the ears of many that Coruwen had been betrothed to Thorin. The company had been kind of to keep it very low tone, but it was Dís that accidently blurted it out. Night could come no sooner for the two. Coruwen had gone back to her chambers with Thorin and the boys following her. Kili had flopped on a sofa with his eyes shut, while Fili was sitting on the hearth.

"Your mother is never allowed to learn anything important ever again," Thorin growled. He was pacing back and forth, almost making a rut. Kili swatted the air lazily. "You got that from her, Kili."

Kili sat upright, his face aghast. "I love you too, Uncle." Kili snorted. Fili rolled his eyes with his hand tucked beneath his chin. There a great deal of tension whilst Thorin silently seethed disdain for his sister. "She did it because she loves you… So it slipped, people would've found out anyway." Kili flopped backwards with his mane of dark hair fanned around him. "Besides, if Mom didn't tell then I would've done it."

"Kili… Shut up before you hurt yourself," Fili drawled. Kili raised his fist up to his brother and then lowered it. The older brother sighed. "Fine, have it your way."

"Boys, enough," Coruwen's voice soothed from the corner. She had hidden herself away in a lounging sofa that was close to the wall, and she had been watching her beloved grow progressively more and more bothered, whilst the boys fought like two children. Thorin halted his pacing, Kili sat up, and Fili watched his soon to be aunt. "Tension is no good for anyone… This event is supposed to be joyous and let it be so. People will talk, like all must do, opinions will be thrown, and possibly there will be fighting amongst one another. However, do not let it cloud our happiness."

Fili blinked with regret in his eyes. "Coruwen's right… Like normal," He grumbled.

Coruwen smirked, "Not always, little lion prince."

Thorin walked up to her and sat at her feet. His hand rested on her knee with his eyes watching her intently. "You're right, Coruwen." Thorin said. "Mistakes aren't always on purpose."

"True," Fili sighed. Coruwen tapped Thorin in the temple with the edge with an envelope. He grabbed the letter, turning it over and read Bilbo's name on the front. "What's that?"

"Looks like the burglar is coming back for a visit," The king breathed. "You wrote this when?"

Coruwen smiled and sat up, hugging her knees. Gently, she pulled on a braid making him turn to her in a slightly defensive position. "When you were busy curing your sister's existence." She laughed. "Best deliver it tomorrow."

"We get to see Bilbo again?" Kili piped. Fili smiled and rolled his shoulders back. Coruwen gave Kili a nod making his flop backwards while smiling like a loon. "Oh boy, we get to torture the hobbit!"

"Boys, no," Coruwen and Thorin scolded. Kili let out a sigh of disappointment, but Fili withheld such a sigh. He would torture Bilbo regardless. A mischievous smile came to his lips when he thought over what all he could do to Bilbo. Coruwen watched him and he felt something soft connect with his head. A pillow hit him in the face. She gave him a reprimanding glare, while Thorin stared at him in confusion.

Fili shrugged. Quickly Thorin caught on, and looked his nephew up and down. Fili mouthed 'what?' while shrugging in defeat. Thorin shook his head. In spite, Fili threw the pillow back at Thorin's head making his uncle bristle. Kili held back a cackle of a laugh as he watched Thorin glare back at Fili.

"Ha," Fili said pompously.

"Fili, I suggest hiding," Kili advised from his spot across the room. Coruwen leaned back against the sofas back before grabbing the pillow and tossing it at Thorin to draw his gaze to her. This did not work.

"Go on, get him before you work yourself into a rut," Coruwen said plainly as she held onto the pillow that Thorin had thrown. Kili bounded over to her when Thorin moved to chase after Fili. "I didn't know they were this entertaining."

"Trust me, it gets better," Kili whispered.

* * *

The cold of night bit at Vasha's face as she flew through the vast range of Ered Mithrin. Mist hung at the base of the mountain's feet like the skirts of women, and trees were the decoration to their grey dresses. Vasha had about given up after flying back and forth about ten times, but after swerving through the tallest peaks she found a hole in which the very ground rattled.

Wisps of smoke drifted from the tunnel's mouth like foam from a rapid hound. Vasha waddled into the cave and found her facing the glowing embers of a dying fire. No, it was a nose. A nose was breathing embers. The hawk screeched loudly with every bit of strength she could muster.

A passing breath escaped the dragon's maw buffeting the hawk in smoke and hurricane like winds. Well, it was hurricane if you were a hawk. Vasha screeched with her hoarse voice and dug her claws into the brow of the dragoness, pecking her with her might.

"Who is there?" Freya's voice boomed. Vasha screeched in panic and darted away, but Freya raised two talons, catching the little hawk in her cage like claws. "What is it you need, little hawk?"

Vasha landed and mustered her strength into the tongue of her people. _"The King and The soon to be Queen of Erebor have requested you back, Lady Queen." _Vasha panted. Freya let out a smoke ring from her nostrils; the potency of the smoke was so much that Vasha could feel her lungs clog up with the poisonous gas. _"Are you going to return?" _

"Aye, little hawk. I will be there within three days. Expect me then," Freya instructed her. The dragoness released the hawk and watched her fly off into the moon's light. Freya tapped her talons on the stone floor of her den, rattling deer bones and assorted hides that she found interesting. "So, my Dear One plans on marrying him, eh?" The dragoness smiled. "Then let it be a most glorious day."

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry this is late! *hides in corner* I got sucked into school, Skyrim, and Dragon Queen! Sorry! *glares at hand* This is your fault, if i didn't have writer's block I wouldn't get sucked into other stuff!**

**Prompts: Most Welcome! :D I actually desire them a great deal. **

**3insteinComplex: I couldn't keep them apart for much longer. It was becoming a nagging thing. The one that I can see that would mother-hen our Elven Lady would be Balin... The elves that got in her face was one of the twins, and that's because Elladan's a jerk and doesn't get it. Arwen and the others know they can't sway Coruwen easily. Plus, your wish has been granted! :) **

**Please Review! **


	8. Chapter 8

**_Great Majesty_**

* * *

_"It is never too late to be what you might have been."-George Eliot _

* * *

Dís looked at Coruwen with narrowed eyes. In her hands she held gold waves trying to braid them, but found it nearly impossible since Coruwen's hair would untangle itself in mere matter of seconds. The princess growled letting the hair drop. She didn't understand how the elves had found such time for little things like this.

"How do your people braid their hair when they are marrying someone?" Dís asked, finally giving into the fact that she couldn't braid the woman's hair. Coruwen glanced over her shoulder at Dís. "Typically, there is a circlet that is worn by the woman being married that is given by her parents. In Gondolin, maidens being married would braid their hair to resemble waterfalls." Coruwen explained as she fingers ran through sections of her hair. Dís watched intently as the elleth worked her hair into different sections and weaved them to form exactly what she had mentioned. "Its meticulous work and I am certainly no expert at it."

Dís observed the braid. She smiled, "I think I work with this design, my dear." The princess unraveled Coruwen's hair from the sloppy braid and began to rework it into an idea that had popped into her head. The braid would go across the woman's head to resemble the waterfall. "You know, I consider my brother lucky to have found one like you. I thought there might be a problem since you are an elf… But it seems I was wrong."

Dís had been wrong before, but it hurt her pride to say that she was wrong. She was a daughter of Thrain, and to hear that one was admitting they were wrong was simply unheard of. She heard a laugh come to her ears forcing her gaze up. "Balin told me about your brother's luck with woman before." Coruwen laughed. "Many chased him, and it has never been the other way around."

Dís laughed along with her. "Sadly, my brother had that bad stroke of luck. None of them seemed to fit him right," She cleared her throat. "What I am about to tell you, you can't tell him, understand?"

"My lips are sealed." Coruwen replied.

"When Frerin and I were in our middle years, we went off with Thorin to the mines where our Grandfather and Father were. There was a woman down there that had mentally claimed my brother as hers." Dís let out a laugh at the thought of the woman. "Thorin then proceeded to hide behind Frerin and Father until they left."

"Thorin hiding?"

"Well... It wasn't technically _hiding_, but he would step behind them and stay with me if that woman got close enough." Coruwen laughed as Dís removed her hands from the woman's hair. She smiled in triumph at her own work. "I like that… It suits you a great deal."

Coruwen's hands rose to touch the braid feeling the separate braids conjoin on the side of her head. She faced Dís, giving her a genuine smile. "Thank you, sister."

Dís' heart leapt a bit in her chest as she rested her hands on Coruwen's shoulders. "You're most welcome." She looked into the blue eyes of the elf before her catching a great amount of love in them. "Do you have a dress, Coruwen?"

The woman pursed her lips in thought. There was something wrong with that statement at first, and it was clear to see in the elf's eyes. Dís looked her up and down thinking over ideas in her head. "Gold would best suit you, I think." Dís thought aloud. "Matches your hair and ring; we could use a white cloak as well."

"Dís, you are genius." Coruwen smiled. "It will take time if it is made here though."

Dís silently agreed with her. If it were to be made quickly, it would have to be done by the elves, or people of Dale. Damn her brother and his poor planning! She clenched her hands into fists behind her back. She hated asking the Mirkwood elves for anything, but it seemed all other ideas were being tossed out the window.

"We could ask Mirkwood for help," Dís offered. Coruwen stared at her in confusion, tilting her head to the side. "I know it seems silly, insane almost, but there are no other options considering the way you are put together."

The elleth shrugged. "I see no wrong in it, but Thorin…" Her throat tightened a bit. "Thorin might have a problem with speaking to Thranduil."

"And I understand where my brother is coming from. I hate that man with every bit of my soul, but uh, we've run aground because of planning." Dís sighed deeply. "Would you speak to the Elvenking about this? I fear if Thorin does it, he might rip the elf's head off."

"I will," Coruwen ran a hand across her braid once more. Her soul was light to the point where all other vile thoughts drifted away into nothingness. "I will send a raven off to Mirkwood right now."

"Coruwen," The princess smiled faintly. "Thank you."

"W-What are you thanking me for?"

Dís let out a huff of laughter, placing a hand over her heart. It was nearly aching in happiness for her brother's gain. As she peered up at Coruwen, she shook her head. "Thank you for making my brother happy. He, out of all people, needed it."

Coruwen bowed her head to Dís. The elleth left the room for Cairn's roost leaving Dís with her thoughts. With any luck, she would have everything planned out in a week's time. In the back of her mind, she was mentally chewing Thorin out for inconsiderate planning. However, what fun would there be if there wasn't rushing? She tapped her fingers on the side of the archway, attempting to piece together some things she needed to do next. Whilst thinking, a woman walked up to her.

"Lady Dís, what a surprise," The woman laughed. Dís turned her attention up to the woman. She was an elderly woman, no older than Balin, with long grey hair that was in an artistic braid. This woman had come with Dís from Ered Luin, her name was Gilda.

"Hello Gilda," Dís said in a monotone voice. She went back to her thoughts, but Gilda stood beside her with a snide glint in her old eyes. How Dís hated Gilda… She would say that there were few dwarves that got on her bad side, but Gilda had her own spot in the princess's least favorite list. With a heavy sigh, Dís spoke. "What is it you need?"

Gilda smirked, "I have been hearing that you are helping that elf woman." When she said elf woman it was filled with disgust. "Why would you help an elf weasel her way into your brother's bed, hmm?"

"I suggest you watch your mouth, Gilda." Dís hissed. The fire of disdain for this woman was blazing deep within her heart as she ran her mouth.

"In all honesty, your brother shouldn't even be near that _woman._ She's poison and will do nothing but corrupt our people." Gilda buffed her nails on her skirts, looking at them intently. "She convinced your brother to kill my half sister's son. A crime most unforgiveable."

Mani was Gilda's half nephew? Dís stared at her like she had lost her mind. In fact knowing Gilda, she most likely had in her sleep without much notice. That aside, Dís knew where the rumors had come from now. She should've known it was this old hag from the start. Mentally, the princess was about ready to pounce on Gilda with a drawn sword.

Gilda sighed dramatically, "Next she's going to start ruining our people's heritage… And knowing elves-,"

"Gilda shut your mouth!" Dís snapped. The woman's mouth shut instantly. "Who all agrees with you on this matter?"

"Oh a few other women and men from Ered Luin," Gilda replied swiftly.

Dís' tone became dangerous, "I need names, woman."

"Now why in the name of Durin, would I do that?"

"Because, by all rights, I am still of noble birth and am your ruler until my brother marries." Gilda's dark eyes widened. "Speak quickly."

"Graham, Nadia, Grimbolt, and Hansel, there!" Gilda belted with shut eyes. Dís backed away withdrawing her dangerous tone and all. "You're not going to hurt me?"

Dís had an innocent look in her topaz eyes as she walked off, "No, of course not. Why would you assume that I would hurt you?" Dís said as she climbed the steps toward the throne room. She slipped inside to find Thorin, Fili, and Balin all speaking between the other. Instantly, Fili's eyes brightened up at the sight of his mother.

"_Amad!_" Fili cried. Balin and Thorin snapped their gazes to her when she came up to the steps of her brother's throne. "What's wrong?"

Dís gave her son a small smile and then it faded when she looked at Thorin. She had remembered her father looking exactly like Thorin did now when they were younger. Though Thrain wasn't king; when Thror had passed his disposition snapped into that temperament. Thorin had done the same. When she looked up at her brother, she saw her father smiling back at her.

"What do you need, dear sister?" Thorin asked. The smile on his face was fond, but dropped when he met her eyes.

Dís shifted her weight to her heels feeling Thorin's eyes bear down on her. She felt like a little girl again when Thorin would reprimand her when she ran off or did something out of line. She tapped the tip of her shoe on the stone floor. "I know who has been spreading rumors around," She stated. Thorin's eyes narrowed at the remark, and his hands curled around the arms of the stone throne. "It was Gilda, and a group of elders from Ered Luin."

"Damn that woman," Balin grumbled.

"I know there is little we can do, but they will soon have others of younger generations on their side," Dís explained. "Grimbolt and Nadia are just two of the four, and I was surprised that they do not care for Coruwen. However, I've been wrong about people."

"Let me deal with Grimbolt and Nadia, however Gilda has forever been a thorn in my side since I returned to this city. The others of the group might be swayed easily. I will see that they are taken care of," Thorin stated. Dís shared a look of worry with her brother. She tipped her head up, and he nodded to her. She sent a silent prayer to Mahal that her brother knew not to kill them. "Dís, where is Coruwen?"

Her eyes widened at the question, feeling her nerves race up her spine. "She didn't tell me where she was going after I finished speaking with her."

Thorin let out a hum in response as he rose from his seat to leave the hall. She watched her brother stride out of the hall and down a corridor leaving the iron wrought doors wide open. Her heart tightened in stress as she collapsed onto the steps. Fili was kneeling before her in an instant.

"Keep an eye on your uncle for me, Fili," Dís whispered. She ran a hand across her face feeling the stress overcome her like a wave. She felt swallowed by life right now. Fili took her hand and gave it a squeeze before walking off to follow after Thorin.

_For I don't know what he'll do when pushed too far. _

"You're worried he's going to do something out of line?" Balin inquired stepping down to Dís' level. He took her hand in gloved one and gave it a reassuring pat. "He's gotten over that stepping stone, I believe. Sadly, I've seen both of them fight to protect the other."

"What do you mean?"

"As Thorin fights to protect Coruwen; Coruwen must fight to protect him." The old warrior sighed heavily, worry prodding his spirit. "I will not cloud these coming days with sadness, for it is not the best of ideas."

"Right," Dís stood letting out a shallow breath. "I have been busying myself that I can't seem to get back up anymore."

Balin chuckled. "Are you asking me for help?"

Dís smiled bashfully. "Please?"

"Just tell me what needs to be done, and it shall happen, my dear." Balin rested a hand on Dís' shoulder, gripping it tightly. She smiled knowing that Balin would help her in this crazy endeavor.

* * *

Fili was getting tired of nearly having his uncle find him for the fourth time on this little expedition. Why send him on this job, when Kili is the sneaky one? He shook his head at his mother's idea. He tapped his fingers on a granite pillar as he listened to his uncle talk to a man named Grimbolt. The dwarf was an old guard from when Thror had ruled over Erebor many years ago. He had white hair and beard that was forked and he wore a leather cuirass along with black trousers. Fili noted how strong he appeared; his shoulders were rolled back and his arms well toned similar to Dwalin.

_Note to self: Do not mess with this man in a fight… _

Grimbolt had tried to weasel his way out of talking to Thorin, but found himself staring the king in the eye. Now, the old man was venting to his king. The voices were hushed, but Fili could depict whose voice was whose among the sound of clanking metal hammers and soft songs.

"I'm telling you, I only agreed with Gilda because she wouldn't leave me alone!" Grimbolt whispered. Fili saw Thorin's hands rest on Orcrist's pommel, tightening as the man spoke. Grimbolt fidgeted in his spot. "I am telling you no lie, my lord. You know how Gilda is when she decides to put her mind to something…"

"And I do not doubt you Grimbolt. Then let me ask you one thing," Thorin said, his voice becoming slightly suspicious. Fili slid further back into the shadows, hoping that Thorin's anger wouldn't get the better of him. "Do you trust Lady Coruwen to become your future queen?"

Nothing was spoken. Fili peeked around the pillar to see Grimbolt kneeling before Thorin. This was surprising to Fili; Grimbolt didn't look like the kind of man to bow before anyone. Fili picked up the man speaking again. "I-I do, she is a most trustworthy woman."

"You're not saying that to save your skin, are you?"

Grimbolt's head snapped up. "On my life, I trust your betrothed more than anything, my king." Thorin's grip on Orcrist lessened and his shoulders relaxed a bit. Fili let out a relief laced breath; feeling the tension remove itself from the room.

"_Arsel, Grimbolt,"_ Thorin backed away as the old guard stood from his kneel. He bowed his head to Thorin as the king left the room. Once he was far enough away, Fili darted after him. He found it strange that the other two people that had associated themselves with Gilda truly never allied themselves. They only agreed with the woman's logic because she was a gossip queen. Now, Fili knew some of the younger dwarves around his age were starting to listen to Gilda's crazy mutters and would verbally strike at Coruwen if given the chance.

Abruptly, Thorin stopped walking and whirled around. His eyes locked on where Fili would be, had he been walking in full view. The king tapped Orcrist's sheath on the ground, and leaned on it. "Fili, come out. I know you're there," Thorin stated.

Fili slinked out of the shadows, and walked down a flight of steps to reach Thorin's side. "How'd you know I was there?" Fili asked, raising one eyebrow.

Thorin chuckled ruffling his hair. Fili grabbed Thorin's arm in both hands and veered it away from him. "For one thing, you're hair gave you away. Another is you need to stop thinking aloud; voices echo." The king said as if it were obvious. Fili rolled his eyes as he followed after his uncle. "I know your mother doesn't trust my temper now, but I have full control of myself. She doesn't want me purposely cutting off people's heads anymore."

"Don't think about making it look like an accident."

"I never said that."

"Well, you were thinking it. So stop it." Fili bumped into Thorin's back when he came to stop before an open door. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Thorin raised a hand to him in signal to be quiet. When the echoing of his voice ceased, Fili heard a croak like voice talking to what sounded like children. He knew Gilda's voice by ear ever since he was little; she sounded like a frog. Only Mahal knew what kind of poison she was feeding those kids. Thorin turned to face him, and pointed to his spot.

_Don't move…_

Fili gave him a nod as he watched Thorin slip into the room. Gilda's voice ceased and gasped in surprise. "Why, my king?! What brings you here?" Gilda asked, her voice becoming fretting. Fili played with the gold trim of his tunic as he listened to Gilda spin her web of lies to Thorin. From there, he proceeded to play with a piece of rock by batting it around like a kitten. By the Valar, he was bored.

_I bet Kili is getting bored out his skull right now. _

His brother had been sent to speak with Bard about something. He couldn't remember what it was, but it wasn't important right now. He could hear his mother's laugh echo up from the halls nearby and the rustling of cloth. He picked up himself up and walked over to the pathway's edge to spy his mother and Balin carrying a rather large chunk of fabric.

"What in the-?" Fili mouthed as he watched his mother drop it, all the while laughing like a mad woman. He heard a familiar deep laugh from below that belonged to Gloín and Gimli as they carried another section of deep blue cloth. "What are they doing?"

A shriek made him bolt up to see Thorin walking out of the room with two guards behind him. They were carrying Gilda under the arms as she kicked and flailed in their grip. Thorin stood off to the side as the guards led Gilda off to a different section of Erebor. The elder woman sent curses flying from her mouth that appalled and angered Fili all at once.

"Where are you sending her?" Fili asked, picking his words carefully. The king inclined his head as he walked away forcing Fili to run after him. "Uncle, where are you sending-,"

"Away," Thorin interjected in a calm voice. The two walked down the corridors and halls until they stopped before the lower mines. "Fili, go and check on the miners. I need to attend to something."

Before Fili could answer Thorin had disappeared from sight. Fili grumbled under his breath as he ventured down into the mines. He could hear the clanking grow louder, and the songs echo off of the walls more and more. The songs kept time with the pickaxes as they chiseled away at veins of gold and rock. As Fili's eyes wandered around he suddenly bumped into something making his tumble to the ground.

"OUCH!" A voice cried. Beneath him lay Dori and Ori, who were both squirming to get free. Fili pulled himself up and wiped the dirt from his face. Ori rolled over and continued to draw in his sketch book. He was being a roadblock. Dori stood, dusting his pants and shirt off, throwing a glare over his shoulder at little Ori.

"Ori, move," Dori said, his voice becoming slightly stern. Ori glanced up at the massive wall of miners and then to his book, drawing each imperfection in detail. Dori sighed in defeat. "Ori, I'll get you a sweet roll if you would move."

Ori scooted over a bit, but still his pencil never moved in his fervent drawing. Dori glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. "Do you need help, Dori?" Fili offered. Dori perked up at the sound of Fili's voice, nodding overzealously. "What is it you need?"

Dori walked over to his side, motioning up at Nori and Bofur, whom had gotten stuck in a rope bind and were hanging upside down by their feet. Fili held back a laugh by clearing his throat. "Bofur was trying to stop Nori from stealing, and they both somehow, got up there," Dori explained, shaking his head. "I do not know the details. I just know that we should get them down."

"Nori's fault for stealing," Fili pointed out with a small smirk. Dori glared at him, and Fili slinked away. "Fine, I'll help you get 'em down."

Dori led him to a lever that was stuck fast. Dori pushed on it with all of his might but it refused to budge. Fili eyed it, noting that a gear had a piece of rock stuck in it. With two fingers, he pried the rock loose and when Dori moved the lever two thumps were heard.

"You two ok?" Dori shouted. Bofur gave him a thumbs up and Nori's head popped up with a small scowl growing on his face. He picked up himself up and stormed past his brother, dragging Ori with him. Bofur crawled over to Fili and Dori with his floppy hat resting lopsided on his head. "Now you know just to let Nori get caught."

"Yeah, yeah; I was wrong, you were right." Bofur deadpanned. "Thank you for getting me down. The blood was starting to go to my head."

Fili smiled and turned back towards the entrance to the mines. "Oh, Fili, wait a minute." Dori said. The dwarf walked up to him with Bofur not too far behind. "You see, I don't get far away from these mines lately. Would you happen to know when Thorin is marrying Coruwen, would you?"

Fili nodded. "Durin's Day, in a week's time; nobody told you when?" Fili stated, feeling a bit guilty that one of the company didn't know about that event.

"Nope, didn't know anything. We asked Ori, but he told us it was a secret," Bofur put in as he readjusted his hat. Fili sighed, pinching the space between his eyes. "Thanks for telling us!"

"That's silly that Ori didn't tell the two of you. You guys are a part of the company," The heir let out a small growl. "If you guys want to help, you're more than welcome. My mother needs it right now."

"We'll be there when we have time," Dori agreed with a smile. Fili disappeared up into the main halls again in an attempt to find Thorin or Dís. He had no such luck with that idea, thus he decided would go find Balin to see what he could help with.

* * *

Coruwen had finally escaped the halls of Erebor for the time being, and decided to visit Ravenhill. She was mentally preparing herself for the coming week knowing that the day she had desired for so long was coming to her. It almost felt unreal to her. In fact, when Thorin had asked her to be his, she was unsure if he _truly_ meant it. She breathed in the autumn air feeling how brisk it was, and how familiar it was to her.

Only a year ago she had climbed these slopes with Faenaur and the company to reclaim Erebor from Smaug. Her eyes observed the golden city of Dale sitting at the feet of Erebor with a dust of green grass on the hills on the Desolation of Smaug. The River Running fed into the rebuilt town of Esgaroth, which was a plain brown-grey dot compared to its grand golden neighbor. Coruwen had remembered when Dale was nothing but ruins, and Esgaroth was a slimy town full of suspicious people. Her home and the two cities were a simple testament to the power of a full bred dragon.

Coruwen's heart ached in longing for her dragoness. How she missed Freya and her playful banter, her grace, and beauty. She let out a long sigh as she walked up to Ravenhill's tower. The flutter of wings made her glance up to see Cairn hovering in flight just above her.

"Cairn, what do you need?" Coruwen asked. Cairn landed on her shoulder with his amber eyes aglow with happiness. "Ok, what has you happy then?"

Cairn let out a happy hum as he rubbed his sleek feathers with his beak. "It has been a long time since two people have married beneath this great mountain, according to my father." Cairn stated. "You should see how nervous your future husband is."

"Thorin isn't the type of man to be nervous. In fact, he seems rather happy to me," Coruwen replied, rubbing Cairn's chest feathers. The raven lord rubbed her hand with his head making a smile come to her face. "Since you seem to think that my beloved is nervous, and then tell me how he is so."

"He has been chewing others out lately. He threw out Gilda, daughter of Hester, because she was spreading lies throughout the kingdom about you." Cairn pointed out. Coruwen found this to be nothing new; Thorin did that whenever someone threatened one his friends or family. "He also has been rather tense."

"Odd…"

"Greatly, my lady. I think a woman's touch is needed to fix him…" Cairn said with a nudge towards her. Coruwen ignored his motions and settled herself on the railing overlooking the Desolation of Smaug. It was here that she knew when Thorin grew worried once. She had graced death here; fought its seductive grip and won, but had been fatally injured as a result. Her scars upon her arm, leg, and abdomen were examples of such injuries. "You could go see him to lighten his mood just a bit, you know."

"Cairn, drop it," Coruwen scolded. Her mind drifted off once more to when she had fallen asleep beside her king here above the tower. She glanced up at the raven, giving him a small flick in the beak. "I know you think I should see him, but I'm a distraction and he needs to focus."

"Fine, have it your way." Cairn turned his head away from her to tuck it beneath his wing when a sky rattling roar was heard upon the high. Coruwen knew that roar anywhere. "What in blazes was that?!"

"Freya!" Coruwen laughed, picking up her skirts she ran towards the roar's origin. It sounded as if it came from the back of the mountain. She ran back inside Erebor, slinking hr way towards a high balcony towards the top. Fili joined her side quickly.

"Is that who I think it is?" Fili asked as he kept up with her.

"Yes it is, Fili," Coruwen replied as she climbed the steps of a balcony to find Dís and Thorin all ready standing there awaiting them. Freya hovered above the great mountain with her head craned so she could look at the people before her. "Freya!"

Freya's amber eyes flicked to Coruwen as she landed in a heavy thump. She shook from nose to flicking tail whilst flinging water everywhere. When she finished, Freya placed her nose up on the balcony's rail gently allowing Coruwen to pet her nose. "It is good to see you, Dear One." Her eyes flicked over to Thorin. "And it is good to see as well, King under the Mountain."

Thorin placed a hand on Freya's nose, watching her intently. "It is good to be in your presence once more, Dragoness." Thorin stated in a clear voice. He backed away from her, allowing Fili to greet Freya in the same manner. Coruwen's heart did flips in her chest at the sight of her Dragon Queen again. "The hawk told us you were to be here in three days, and by my count it has only been one."

Freya smiled wryly. "Tis best to be early than late, Great King," Freya replied smoothly. Thorin's eyes narrowed at Freya as she let out a hearty laugh. "Oh come now, you wouldn't expect me to allow you to marry my Dear One without me nearby, would you?"

"Not really," Thorin grumbled. His face was slightly contorted in frustration, which Coruwen smiled at. She reached over and took his hand. At the contact, his hand gripped hers tightly, a signal that he was nervous. Thus proving Cairn to be right. Carefully, Thorin spoke, "However, I suppose it is to be expected."

"What Thorin is trying to say," Coruwen cut him off from speaking. "Is that we're happy to have you back, Freya."

The dragoness laughed again, but a tad quieter. She nudged Coruwen softly and regarded the dwarves with a great deal of fondness. "Thank you and it is good to _be_ back, little ones." Freya stated happily. "If there is anything you need of me, do not be afraid to call. I must hunt down something for my flight here has left me a bit hungry."

With one flex of her wings, Freya was up in the air controlling the winds with her leathery wings. She flew off towards Greenwood in one simple sweep of her lengthy body. Dís looked at Thorin and Coruwen as if they had lost their minds.

"What was that?!" Dís shouted.

"A dragon, dear sister," Thorin stated flatly. Dís punched her brother in the arm making him flinch. "Her name is Freya, she was Smaug's mother."

"I know _that_, idiot. Frerin told me about her, but how in the name of the Star Guider is she alive?" The princess growled. Thorin glanced up at Coruwen with an unexplained emotion looming in his eyes. She couldn't tell what it was, but it was enough to make him tighten his hold on her hand.

"It's a bit hard to explain, _Amad_," Fili put in.

Dís let out a huff and turned on her heel. "I best get an answer before the night is done, Thorin Oakenshield!" She stormed down the steps with Dwalin following her.

Fili stepped near Thorin and glanced over at him with pursed lips. "Oh, you in trouble," Fili muttered accusingly.

"Fili, shut it," Thorin growled. The boy let out a small snicker as Thorin shut his eyes. "She hasn't used my title like that since Ered Luin. I guess I better tell her."

Coruwen wrapped her hand around his wrist and his gaze rose to her face. "_We_ will tell your sister," She corrected. He smiled, giving her a nod. "After all, it was I that summoned our dragoness. Thus, I should be the one to tell her exactly how it was done."

"Do whatever you see fit, love," Thorin replied. "I will find you again later."

His hand slipped free of hers causing a small bite of longing to shoot through her. Yes, she would have to wait… It seemed that Cairn was right; much to her displeasure. Thorin was split in many different directions as ruler of Erebor currently. It upset her to see him spread so thin. She wanted to help him, but couldn't because of her current status. She tightened her hands into fists at her sides. Her heart wanted the day to come faster, but her mind could not prepare fast enough. When the title of Queen fell upon her, much was going to be expected of her.

"Worried?" Balin's voice drew her from her self patronizing. She glanced up to see him smiling at her, the knowing smiles that he so often gave her. The ones that made his eyes twinkle with a certain knowledge that made her curious. "We'll help you through it all, Coruwen."

"I know, but I feel like there is someone more suited for such a title," Coruwen said. "One that would not be questioned as rightful queen."

Balin's hand took hers in a tight grip. "I see no other who would make a better queen than you, lass. You are not perfect, just as anyone should be. However, Thorin chose you above all others for a reason; because of the fact you know how to keep a level head when he cannot."

"Balin…"

The dwarf let out a sigh. "You remind me much of his mother when she was co-ruler of Ered Luin with Thrain. The wife of Thrain knew how to soothe her husband's anger faster than all others, when force pressed down on them. You have that quality, and the ability to command others when needed. A trait queens must have along with grace."

Balin released her hand and took both of them in his.

"You are a queen just as much as Dís or any other ruler of this great kingdom. Don't let contraction blind you. All you need to remember is that _he_ chose _you_."

Coruwen nodded firmly to Balin, who then walked with her down the steps only to be practically run over by Gimli and Gloín. The two were carrying a large silver banner into the throne room. Balin smiled, letting out a huff of laughter.

"What in the world are they doing?" Coruwen inquired.

"Dís' idea," Balin said simply guiding her to another section of Erebor. Coruwen mentally rolled her eyes at Dís' ideas. "You know, I heard that something came for you just this morning from Mirkwood."

"Mirkwood?"

Balin stopped before a wooden door and pushed it open to reveal Sol and Borni standing over a wooden table, rummaging through different parcels. Sol stood on her tip toes as she watched Borni with big, curious eyes.

Borni, Gloín's wife, was a bit shorter than Dís in height with long, brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail held together by a shield clip. She worked as a weapons smith, and shown in her roughened hands that were marred by burn scars and cuts. When the door opened, Borni turned to look at Balin with one blue eye. She smiled as she tossed a package to Sol.

"Give that one to Balin, Little Sun," Borni instructed. Sol hefted the package in her little arms and carried it over to Balin. "That came from the Elvenking this morning; said it needed to go to Coruwen."

"Aye, thank you Borni," Balin said as he left the room. The dwarf looked up at Coruwen, who was anxious to see what was inside the brown paper wrapped package. "Follow me."

Coruwen's anxious nerves made her growl as she shuffled after Balin, who led her up a flight of steps to the hall that led to her room. When Balin stopped in front of her room, she sighed and unlocked the door. The elder followed her inside and instructed her to sit.

"Don't look over your shoulder," Balin said with a smirk.

"Balin for the love of the Valar," Coruwen groaned. "Hurry up, suspense will be my downfall."

The ruffling of paper and the sound of beads being unraveled from one another made her curiosity spike. To contain her anxiety, she shut her eyes. Cold pressed against her forehead and she felt fingers pull at her hair slightly.

"Can I look now?" Coruwen asked cracking open one eye.

She heard a small, happy sigh, "Aye, you can look."

Coruwen stood and walked over to her mirror to find a circlet of white silver sitting upon her brow with long cobalt blue beaded strands reach back to fall in the direct middle of her forehead. The threads then conjoined with silver and emerald leaves that glittered in the light. The circlet depicted budding flowers fashioned of the same white silver metal. Such a gift made her about tear up.

"My God," Coruwen breathed. "Are you sure Thranduil gave me this?"

Balin withdrew a note from the package and handed it to her. In long, flowing handwriting said Thranduil at the bottom, and the letters matched the signature and letter's contents.

_Coruwen, _

_I have received word about your upcoming marriage from a little raven. The dress that you require will be brought upon the day I arrive in Erebor. This gift that I sent with the raven is a gift that was given to my wife upon the day I married her many years ago. It befits a woman that is going to be ruling a great empire such as Erebor. _

_May you find great happiness with your beloved. _

_-Thranduil, son of Oropher_

Her hands lifted the circlet from her brow and placed it back into the yew carved bow that it had been drawn from. Balin looked up at her with fondness glowing in his eyes. She shut her eyes feeling tears sting her eyes a bit.

"I-I can't believe he would give me such a gift," Coruwen whispered.

Balin took her hand. "It befits a queen, my dear. If he believes that you're a queen that I believe that's enough justification." Balin comforted. "We're going to have to hide that from the boys and Thorin."

"I know where to put it," Coruwen stated as she walked up to the box. She picked it up and carried it into her room, sliding it into her end table. "Those three know better."

Balin was smiling at her, and she tilted her head in curiosity. "You will make a fine queen, my dear. When that circlet came to sit upon you, it seemed as if the world had stopped for about two seconds."

"Balin, you're turning into Thorin, stop it." He watched her leave the room. In his heart, he knew she would make a fine queen. Contrary to what she tried to say; she would rule this kingdom alongside Thorin easily.

* * *

**A/N: And here I thought I wasn't going to be able to do this.. Well, its late(i'm sorry) and Its long! Hopefully, you all won't have to wait four days for this again. **

**Please, tell me what you guys think, i'd love to hear from you! **

**Please Review. **


	9. Chapter 9

**_Setting Aside Hatred_**

* * *

"_The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them."__ –Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

Kili stepped back inside of Erebor's halls, feeling happy to be home from his little adventure with Bard that had somehow lasted a week. However, upon entrance he found that his home... Wasn't quite the same that he had left it. Silver and Blue banners hung from the sides of the walls with the symbol of Erebor upon them, and some had a picture of a dragon on them. They caught sunlight streaming from the windows above the door, or from the torches. Kili shook himself free of gawking at the banners and began searching for his mother.

He walked into the throne room to find no one, which bothered him. Then, instead of Dís, he found Fili sitting on a bench rubbing his face with a cloth. He had never seen his brother look so haggard before. He walked up to Fili, who stared up at him with a grin on his face. Quickly, he was being embraced by his older brother tightly; so tight that he felt his bones might snap.

"Missed me?" Kili asked patting Fili on the back.

Fili pulled away, letting out a tired laugh. "You have no idea," Fili breathed. "Amad is going to be the death of me."

Kili tipped his head to the side. "How is Amad going to do that when she isn't present?"

"Give her a few minutes. She's a on a rampage right now, and Uncle and I have decided to stay out of her war path." Fili grimaced. "However, she seems to have a tracking device on me that somehow tells her where I am at all times. It's disturbing."

"That's called maternal instinct, my dear boys," Dís' voice said coolly. Kili's blood froze in his veins when he swiveled his gaze back to his mother, who was standing before them with her arms crossed. "When you have children, you will understand."

Fili let out sigh of defeat, falling back onto his bench. "Kili gets to do whatever you need." Kili's mouth went agape at his brother's statement, and while his mother dragged him off, he shot a dirty glare at Fili. The older brother just wiggled his fingers at him in goodbye while he sat on his bench.

"Hi Amad," Kili said sweetly as she dragged him by his collar. Dís patted his head with one hand, but did not let go. He started thinking of ways to weasel his way out of having to do whatever little tricks his mother wanted. She could've gotten Ori to do it _easily_. All you need to do it bribe him with ale and sweetrolls. "What'cha need me to do?"

"I need you to climb up somewhere for me." Dís stated. Kili's heart fell out of his chest. "It's not _that_ high, I guarantee you'll be safe."

_My mother is slowly losing her ever loving mind. Why can't we just, oh I don't know, ignore it! Damn it…. _

"Didn't you say that once, and Fili broke his arm?"

Dís dropped his collar. "That was one time_, one!_" Dís tossed Kili a rope, pointing upward to a high ledge. He started to climb up the rocks, feeling slightly uneasy about climbing so high. Then again, just about anywhere was high for him. He was an archer meant for climbing high, but _not_ like this… He tied the rope around a jutted rock, tugging once to make sure it was secure, and then clambered back down. Dís gave him a bright smile. "And you said you couldn't do it."

Kili scuffed the floor with his boot. "Ok, ok, caught me."

She embraced her son tightly. "Now, you stay with your brother, and do not get in my way. Understand?" Kili nodded. "Good, we only have a day and a half left."

Why did that day seem to take longer and longer to get here? It must be torture for Thorin and worse for Coruwen, who had to take up the mantle as Queen under the Mountain. Kili walked down the steps of the corridor, his thoughts plundering his mind like a pack of wild dogs. By the Maker, he felt horrible. There was a feeling that twisted his gut painfully, and distracted him easily. Whatever was causing it; he didn't like. He came to sit beside Fili, who gave his hair an affectionate ruffle.

Brothers, something one can't seem to live without.

* * *

Thorin leaned heavily against Orcrist before he swung at Balin again. There was a certain anxiety that had been plaguing him that made his ability to focus go south for a spell. It had been a long time since he had sparred against Balin, in fact he felt a bit slow against the old warrior. His swings were timed poorly forcing him backwards on several counts, which only made his frustration grow. Balin rolled his wrist that held his sword before sheathing it.

"What's wrong, laddie? You've never been this out of focus," Balin questioned offering his king a hand. Thorin's side gave out a painful jolt when he stood back up to his full height. He sheathed Orcrist, feeling the ring of the elven steel race up the hilt. Balin smiled with a sly glint in his eye. "You're nervous, aren't you?"

Thorin looked up at Balin, and then it veered elsewhere. "I suppose I am," Thorin admitted. He had never felt nerves wrack him like this. It felt foreign to his mind. "I have been unable to focus, all of my thoughts venture off into the void."

"That's called being nervous, and one should be if they were marrying someone like our dear Coruwen." Balin chuckled. Thorin felt as if the old warrior was playing a game with him. He wasn't up for a game right now; he needed help. As king, the inability to focus became your downfall rather easily. The king gave the warrior a half hearted glare. "You feel like you'll let her down?"

"No," Thorin clasped his sword's hilt tightly in his hands. "She is an elf still, meaning that one day I will perish, and she will keep living. I cannot change her race. This problem has been haunting me for the previous nights and days, never leaving my mind."

Balin sighed. "Thorin, you're over thinking things again. Coruwen may be an elf, so what? It doesn't matter." The dwarf's words made the king's gaze rise. "You are marrying a most beautiful jewel. She loves you; I can see it when she looks at you. And you love her just as much, no doubt."

He clasped Balin's shoulder in a firm grip. "And I have fought too hard to keep her as mine."

"Exactly, and your sister is driving everyone insane because she wants you to be happy. I know you can do it; you need only focus on what's coming. Let Dwalin and I deal with our kin; they surely will understand." Balin walked away from him, casting a wink over his shoulder. "After all, the two of you will be the first marriage under this great mountain since your father married your mother. That has to count for something."

The elder disappeared into the mountain's depths once more leaving Thorin outside on a plateau. He sighed and sat on a rock, running a hand across his face when stress took him over. Balin was right; _he_ was marrying a beautiful woman, who he had been silently waiting for nearly two hundred years. He mentally chastised himself for doubting his heart's decision. He heard footsteps on the stone path leading out to the plateau, making him stand.

Much to his surprise, he saw Coruwen standing before him with a curved blade in her hands. She must've not noticed him for she twirled the blade in her left hand making her wince. He had forgotten about her arm; that injury had happened when he had despised her. How could he believe that he had done that to the woman he ended up loving? Thorin's hands tightened around Orcrist.

Thorin watched Coruwen swing the blade in graceful arcs and she twirled the hilt with two fingers, letting the silver flicker in the limited sunlight. There was a hitch in her left hand that prohibited her from raising it above her head, she would let out a low curse in her mother language as a result if the pain became too much. After one twirl of the blade in her left hand, it clattered out of her hand as she panted. He took a step near her, gently picking up the blade. This blade was built like a long knife, meant for short blows unlike his blade that was meant for cleaving monsters and, in some cases, people.

Thorin knelt before Coruwen, brushing aside strands of her gold hair se he could look at her face. Her eyes were shut as she shook with pain. Gingerly, he cupped her face in one hand making her eyes open. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"How long have you been there?" Coruwen breathed.

"I've been watching you since you came out here," Thorin said into her ear as she relaxed and went limp in his arms. She was still shaking as she rested against him. "Your arm is a mess, sadly."

"I hate it," She growled. "I hate that I cannot lift anything with it, I can barely pull back a bowstring, and I cannot embrace you as tightly." Coruwen pulled away from him looking into his eyes. Anger and sadness thrashed together in her blue eyes. "All that I ever loved is broken because of my damned arm."

Before she could speak more, Thorin placed a finger on her lips to hush her. "I see nothing wrong in your arm. Granted, what elven pride you had is destroyed, but your arm is a symbol that anyone can live such hard times."

Coruwen removed his hand, the anger igniting her blue eyes. "Telling me that I cannot pull back a bowstring anymore is like telling you to give away your place as king! We each have our own pride-,"

Thorin let her words sink in a bit, but he placed his hand on either side of her face. Coruwen met his eyes, and deep within he was willing her to be quiet. The elleth silenced immediately with wide eyes. "There is little we can do to fix it, Coruwen. I know it bothers you, and if I could fix your arm I would. The Goblin King may have ripped your arm, but Gandalf saved you from a life of quite possibly never having an arm."

"Thorin…" She rested her forehead against his. "I-I am so confused… I am torn."

"Why are you torn?" He stroked the sides of her face with the back of his hand, feeling her lean into his gentle touch. She shook her head forcing gold strands fall in her eyes. "Coruwen, tell me."

"I have been thinking…" Thorin mentally sighed, knowing those words meant that she was going to say something idiotic. "I feel as though I am not fit to be yours. I feel as if there is someone more suited than I to be your queen."

"Stop speaking nonsense." He said firmly. She flinched beneath his grip, trying to rip away but he held her still. He looked her in the eyes, seeing the swimming fear and doubt in her eyes. Balin had spoken to him about her recent boughts of doubt. "You are my chosen, and no other can replace you in my heart. I love you, and why you doubt yourself I have no idea, but it has been dumbfounding me."

He kissed her lips softly reinforcing his point. He spoke again. "I have the most beautiful jewel in all of Erebor. She will become mine in a matter of days, and I will be hers. Her rightful place as queen is second nature to her, but she cannot see it through a bank of fog."

Coruwen gave him a watery smile, her eyes becoming glossy with tears. Her arms laced around his neck in a tight embrace. She was so emotional nowadays, that was no doubt caused by stress. He stroked her hair with his fingers running through her silky hair. Though no tears fell, Coruwen shook in sadness. This was no ordinary sadness; it was fueled by confusion. Her hands pushed on his shoulders as she pulled away from him. Thorin reached up and traced her pointed ears with gentle fingertips.

"Do not cry, love," The king soothed. "I am here for you, if you ever need me."

The elleth kissed his cheek fleetingly before standing. When she left him, all of the nervousness sparked into a wildfire in his chest. Using Orcrist, he stood as Grimbolt and a guard came running up the steps, both out of breath.

"What's wrong?" Thorin asked, looking between the guard and Grimbolt. Coruwen heard the two and walked over to Thorin, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Grimbolt…"

"Elf-host… Outside," Grimbolt panted. He pointed towards the gates, in which Coruwen and Thorin both darted towards the gates in search of the cause of the sudden appearance of elves. Upon reaching the high perch of the gate, one only saw two horses with their riders dismounted.

The flash of silver-blonde hair made Coruwen's heart stop. She blocked Thorin's view of the Elvenking by leaning over the side of the rail. The second figure Thorin knew as Naruhel, a healer woman from Mirkwood.

Wait a second, _Mirkwood_?

Anger boiled in his veins knowing who the other horse belonged to. He mushed Coruwen aside to see Thranduil looking up at him. The Elvenking's presence bothered Thorin to no end. He gritted his teeth and allowed them inside. Much bitterness had grown between the Elf and Dwarf kings. The only thing Thorin ever thanked Thranduil for was saving his beloved from death. Aside from that, Thranduil could have been eaten by a pack of wargs and he wouldn't care. Coruwen had run down the steps to greet Thranduil and Naruhel. The elleth greeted the king with a hug, which mildly startled him. Naruhel curtsied to Thorin, who in turn bowed his head to her. At least one of those confounded elves had a sense of place.

There was rapid Sindarin being spoken between the three as they walked off, and Thorin felt as if he had just lost Coruwen to her people. It was beginning to rekindle old hatred for elves and their secrecy. Granted, Coruwen had been kind enough to teach him bits of her language, but they never truly stuck in his head. He had learned the language as a boy; once again Thorin rarely listened.

When he had tried to follow them, he had found they had disappeared into a room. Irritation brooded within him as he walked off to his room to find the door open, and from within his sister's voice could be heard along with Dwalin's. Mahal, help him…

"Dís!" Thorin shouted as he stood in the doorway. The princess dropped an oaken box onto the floor, luckily not dropping its contents. Dwalin gave him an incline of his head before walking out of the room, knowing when trouble was brewing. Thorin's tone dropped to a low growl. "What are you doing in my room?"

Dís picked up her dropped box, dusting off the top revealing the carved crest of Durin upon it. Instantly, all anger departed him as Dís handed him the box. "If you do not want it, give it back," Dís said shortly. Thorin shook his head as he pried the box's top open. Within the box, sat the crown of his forefathers, though the silver was tarnished, the jewels glittered in the light. "Bofur and Bifur found it in the mines."

No words came to Thorin; all he could do was pull his sister into a tight hug. Dís smiled, patting his back softly. Upon pulling away, her fingers curled around the top, closing the box. "Mine for now," Dís said with a fox like grin. She snatched it away from him before fleeing from the room quicker than he had ever seen his sister move. Damn it all he was confused.

"Dís, what am I going to do with you?" Thorin muttered, rolling his eyes.

* * *

Coruwen wound her fingers into the folds of her dress with a growing pang of nervousness in her chest. Naruhel came back from her bedroom, closing the door to keep any unwanted eyes out. The red head was oddly giddy since she had arrived with Thranduil. The healer sat in a chair with a bright smile on her face that made Coruwen give her small one in return. There was something about Naruhel that was infectious. She could brighten up anyone's day in matter of seconds with just one beaming smile. However, something bothered Coruwen.

Where was the princeling?

Coruwen's gaze fell on Thranduil, who was watching the flames that burned in the fireplace blankly. The red and dark orange changed his silver blonde hair to the color of Legolas' almost; it was rather odd to behold in fact. Anxiety tore at Coruwen's spirit as she sat in silence with the two elves, and the _only_ elves that accepted her now. Her heart gave out a spike of massive pain at the sound of that.

"Thranduil," Coruwen started, looking at the Elvenking. The ellon's gaze snapped to hers at the sound of his name. "Where is Legolas?"

Thranduil smiled softly, "Home, where he won't cause trouble." The Elvenking laughed to himself. "I know that the two of you don't get along…"

"I don't mind him, but I do agree with you. The boy is more trouble than he's worth." Coruwen agreed as she twirled one gold wave. She caught the look in Thranduil's eyes, longing was in them. What was bothering him? "Is something the matter?"

The king leaned on the heel of his hand, shaking his head. Naruhel and Coruwen weren't buying that trick for one second. Coruwen stood and walked up to Thranduil, kneeling before him so she could see his eyes. There was a pain in his eyes that wasn't being masked, a deeply etched pain. A love scar had formed on his heart, which showed brilliantly before Coruwen. Reaching up, she tucked a long strand of silver hair behind his ear. The king looked at her with the scar making his eyes become watery.

Thranduil wasn't the type to break. In fact, he wore such a hard mask of blank emotion; one rarely ever saw _this_ side of him.

"Naruhel, leave us for a bit," Thranduil ordered, not looking at the elleth he mentioned. The healer slinked out of the room at his order. The king took the side of Coruwen's face, looking down at her like she was his own child. "I know what happened to you, my dear."

Coruwen gave him a stern glare. "That is not what's bothering you," She said.

The king hung his head. "You're right, it's not…" He leaned back into his chair, hiding his hands in his long sleeves. "Will you let me tell you a story?"

"I'm not an elfling," Coruwen grumbled as she sat beside him.

"It is no story for children…" His voice broke a bit. "You wore that dress earlier and I saw my wife in your stead." Thranduil held her gaze for a moment. "My wife left these shores when Elrond's wife did earlier in the Third Age. But you remind me of her, physically."

"Thranduil, why are you-?"

"Because, the little raven told me that you doubt yourself to become queen, Coruwen." His voice snapped into a stern demeanor, and then sank back down to a melancholy again. "My wife did the same for she was of Silvan descent. She did not believe in herself until matters pushed her too far. You and my wife are the few that have queenly nature in your blood." He looked into the flames again. "You need only look for it… It is there, I have seen it. It comes out at odd times…"

"Odd times?"

"When you defied my order and returned to the mountain many months ago. There was a certain look in your eye when you bit your tongue that I knew all too well."

The words hung in the air with silence unable to scream above it. No, only the snapping whips of flames could be heard. Coruwen took a deep breath, feeling his words sink into her mind. Thorin and Balin believed in her to become a queen, and so did Thranduil. Maybe destiny is a forced path… It surely seemed that way in her eyes. She gave a slow nod, patting Thranduil's hand.

"What happened to your wife, if I may ask?" Coruwen inquired. Thranduil let out a sigh, running a hand across his eyes. "You do not have to tell me if it is too painful. But your worry and melancholy is bothering me greatly."

The king smiled faintly. "That is the story I was going to tell you…" He moved her hand up to his wrist where she could feel his pulse. "Legolas is not an only child; in fact he had an older brother. His brother was a kind soul, an awful lot like his mother. He had a fatal accident one day, and died in his mother's arms-,"

The sentence broke off as Thranduil took a breath. His voice was cracking in emotion as he spoke. Whatever happened was traumatic enough to frighten a man like Thranduil.

"Legolas was so small… And didn't understand death quite yet. He was wondering why his brother wouldn't wake up as his mother wept over our lost son. I had to remove Legolas before he completely understood what all had happened to his brother. Shortly after that incident, my wife had mental scarring and ventured to the Grey Havens with Celebrian where they left these shores for Valinor."

"I'm sorry, my lord."

"The memory's strength has long since been removed from my mind, but losing my eldest was a bit too hard…" Thranduil took her hand in his, and their gazes met. "Promise me that if you _ever_ have children; that you will keep them safe. They are far more precious than anything on this good earth, and you do not realize such until they have slipped away from you."

Coruwen nodded to him. "I promise, Thranduil."

"Good girl," The king's hand slipped out of hers as he stood. "I have one more thing for you." He walked over to the mantle and withdrew a light blonde wooden box with a glossy top. He knelt before her, motioning for her to open it with gentle nod. Her fingers pried the golden lock free and opened it to reveal two Evenstar pendants, shining like the great Star Kindler herself.

"Thranduil, you have given me enough," Coruwen said gently.

"You have no one right now, my dear. Tis the least I can do," Thranduil told her shutting the box. "They are for you and your betrothed. Considering how short lived dwarves are compared to us."

"It will not prolong Thorin's life…."

"No, not unless an elf gave up the Life of the Eldar to the pendants," He set the box back onto the mantle. "It is a tricky business… You have to state that you are willing to give it up before the person you choose. Lúthien did it by dancing for Mandos, but he's a bit hard to reach…"

_Give it up… Before the person you choose. _

The thought made Coruwen look up at the mantle and then at the floor. It was a thought… It was very plausible.

* * *

Kili sat on the steps of the throne with Fili beside him and Sol in his lap. Thorin was silently seething at the fact that elves had come into his domain, _again_. Dís was busy calming him to the best of her ability, but it ended up that she called on Balin to help. It was now becoming a team effort to calm Thorin. They had corralled Gloín into the fray, thus allowing Sol into the room, and they also called on Dwalin. Kili dreaded who they would call on next.

And that is why he and Fili were staying out of it.

Sol was cradled against his chest asleep with her red hair covering her face, and her fist curled in his shirt. Why did it have to be him? Fili had laughed when Sol had fallen asleep on him, but Kili only glared at him in warning. In truth, he thought Sol was cute. She was like a sister to him now. If he did something out of line, she scolded him, and the gesture was returned. Lately, she had been scolding Fili whenever he would do something stupid.

"You think they calmed down yet?" Fili whispered, giving his brother a shifty glance. A loud bang was heard and Fili sighed.

"Nope, I do not," Kili replied, holding back a snicker. "We almost need Coruwen here to calm Uncle."

"Yeah, I'm not going to go find her with Thranduil here," Fili muttered, lowering his gaze to the floor. "Freya?"

Kili's eyes widened, "Hell no."

"We should go see her… I'm feeling a bit guilty that we haven't talked to her lately."

"Well, I would love to," Kili gave him a forced grin. "But I seem to have this, uh, small rock on my chest right now."

Fili chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh for the love of-. I carried _you_ around like that."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, all you need to do is give her a piggy back ride, brainless squirrel."

Kili pouted. "Why can't you do it?"

"Kili..." Fili stood, rotating his neck. "She's a little girl; they don't have germs or something stupid like that." He gave him a snide look. "That is unless you're _scared_."

Agitation boiled in Kili's blood as Fili taunted him. He swatted the air as he stood. "Fine, fine, I'll do it. Just hold her for a second," Fili scooped up Sol, who fought hard to keep a hold of Kili's tunic but pried her off him. Kili stood and let Fili put Sol on his back so they could visit Freya.

The two walked out into one of the many corridors and then took a door that led to a low path, leading up to an old watchtower. Sol never once fidgeted, or wiggled, she stayed perfectly still until the boys reached the top of the tower where Freya's head sat eye to eye.

"Freya!" Fili yelled. The dragoness swiveled her gaze over to them, and Kili's heart leapt in his chest. To this day, he was still frightened by her. The dragoness' sigil pupil was enveloping a large amount of her amber eyes as she gazed at the boys. "Hello, Great One."

"Ah, Little Heirs, hello," Freya greeted nudging their hands with the tip of her scaly nose. Her scales were rough, but it certain places they felt like polished river rocks. Freya was such a complex creature. "What brings you up here?"

"Escaping," Kili said flatly. Fili gave him a swift punch in the shoulder for that.

"Well, kind of… Uncle's angry," Fili told her leaning on the side of the rock wall. Freya let out a rumble that sounded like rolling thunder. "What's so funny?"

Kili stared at Fili in disbelief. That was a laugh? That surely was no laugh to him… It sounded like a bloody growl. How could Fili be so brave in front of a dragoness when she was watching him intently? His brother was a madman sometimes.

"Your uncle is a dragon in spirit, I swear," Freya chuckled. "He is upset because of two elves that have only come because they wish to see their kinswoman be married off…"

"If we could explain it to Thorin like that, he would not be angry like he is right now," Kili whispered. Freya's tail graced his face fleetingly, as if smoke had touched his face.

"Little Wolf, you are correct," Freya said sweetly. "Your Uncle must learn that elves mean no harm unless it is brought forth. Look at his lover for instance; _she_ surely brings no harm to him."

"Yeah, but there was a time," Fili put in. "We luckily stopped him from killing her."

"And look what has become of them now. Soon to be married in merely a day," Freya lowered her head a bit, letting the moonlight catch the slick rosewood colored scales. "He should let others have a chance."

"Aye," The boys said together.

"You should get your little one back inside, Little Wolf. She will surely freeze up here," Freya stated. The dragon was right; Sol was shaking like a leaf. Fili took her in his arms and she cuddled into his coat. "I will be here if you need me, Little Wolf and Lion."

"Thanks, Freya," Kili said as he followed Fili down back into Erebor.

Once back inside, the yelling from earlier seemed to have quit because Thorin was back to pacing about his throne room. Dís was sitting on the steps before the throne, watching her brother with a tiny grimace on her face. Kili was wondering if they could sneak by without getting caught.

"Kili?" A little voice squeaked. He turned to see Sol's green eyes peering at him through her mane of red hair. She had a hold of the fur on Fili's coat. The coat was similar to the pelt of a lion now that Kili looked at it. Damn Freya and her nicknames… They were silly.

"Go back to sleep, Sol," Fili soothed stroking her head. The girl didn't fight sleep and snuggled back into the golden fur on the coat. Kili looked at his brother darkly. Fili wiggled his fingers at him, "Magic…"

"Magic, whatever," Kili scoffed motioning for Fili to keep watching. His brother laughed a bit and kept walking through the shadows of the pillars. Deep within his mind, Kili sent a small prayer to Mahal that Thorin would calm down since in a days' time he was going to have get over himself…

* * *

**A/N: Huzzah, semi late! I'm getting back into it. So, if you guys could guess _that_ day is arriving next chapter. **

_(Now, you're probably wondering where Bilbo is, we'll see him when Bard comes along.) _

**I will gladly take suggestions on what you guys wanna see; because hearing from all of you makes me so happy! So, please give me a review, or PM, and tell me what you wanna see!**


	10. Chapter 10

**_The King and Queen of Old_**

* * *

"_I have found the one whom my soul loves…" Song of Solomon 3:4_

* * *

Upon this day, Erebor was thrown into a mild frenzy. The Lord and Lady of Dale had arrived early to help, but couldn't get over the fact that everyone was bustling about so quickly. The sun was out on the last day of the dwarves' New Year with little to no cloud coverage; it was a bright sunny day. Bard saw Dís dart past him, shouting at her kin to move along. His betrothed gripped his arm tightly when the voices answered back to the princess.

"It's all right, Iris," Bard calmed, patting her hand.

Iris was soon to be his wife. She was an altruistic woman by nature, and it shown in her hazel eyes. Iris only reached his shoulder with long coal black hair that was straight. She wore a silver dress with sheer shawl over her small shoulders. He had taken a small emerald off of the Emeralds of Girion and set it into a ring for his Iris. It flickered in the sunlight when she moved her hand to grip his arm tighter.

"Insanity," Iris whispered in his ear. Bard smiled wryly as her grip loosened. "How do you deal with them?"

"It will take charm, and no small bit of finesse." Bard chuckled. Iris smiled up at him; a smile that warmed his heart. Long had he missed the company of a woman. In fact, when he met Iris, there was little he could do to get her off of his mind. Now, she was his. However, this day wasn't about him and his love. It was about two people that had been chasing after the other for months… Quite possibly for years in spirit. He wondered what it must be like to marry someone who you truly loved, and fought for. Bard assumed it was like having your best friend at your side no matter the cost. His attention snapped down to Dís when she stood before him.

The princess wore a gown of dark purple with silver stitching depicting her family's crest. Her hair had been artistically braided with a silver ribbon and it came to rest on her shoulder. She gave him a bright smile, motioning for him to follow her down a long corridor that had intercut banners of blue and silver draped on its walls. Dís stopped before a wooden door and tapped on it.

No answer came to her.

"One moment," Dís grumbled as she slinked into the room. Bard waited with Iris, who was slowly releasing her tight grip on him. There was a loud thump followed by a series of voices from within. One of them sounded familiar; a wise, kind voice followed by Dís' yell. "For the love of Mahal, get up!"

Much to Bard's surprise, Balin came out of the room and let out a sigh. The warrior's eyes rose to Bard's, and he gave him a low bow. "Greetings, My lord and lady. I am terribly sorry for the yelling; minor inconvenience."

"Surely didn't sound like that," Bard mumbled.

Balin let out a nervous chuckle. "The King has been more focused, but currently he is everywhere at once." It seemed to Bard and Iris that there must've been a miscommunication between the children of Thrain. Balin motioned for them to follow him. Before he started walking, he looked up at Iris, giving her a bow of his head. "Now, who is this lovely young lady? I don't believe we've met."

Iris glanced up at Bard, who spoke for her. "This is Lady Iris, daughter of one of my generals. She and I are to be married in a year's time."

"Wonderful, that's always good to hear," Balin laughed as he walked back the way they had come. "There is little to do right now; I can see if Lady Coruwen would like to see the both of you."

"Oh no, she's most likely busy,' Bard dismissed. "Knowing her…"

* * *

"Naruhel, ouch," Coruwen cursed. The healer tightened the braid more making her wince. She had woken up early and thus Naruhel had spent the last few hours working on her hair; trying to make it prefect. This wasn't going to work as well as the healer woman had thought at first. Coruwen's hair did as it pleased; becoming a tangled mess after it had been washed. It was still damp, but it was starting to become a pain in Naruhel's side. Thranduil had stayed far from his kinswomen, playing with his sleeves or watching the sky outside on her balcony. Coruwen had no idea was Naruhel was doing to her hair besides pulling on it.

"It's not cooperating," Naruhel snarled tugging on a braid that was on the right side of her head. Coruwen let out a growl. "Stop it, that doesn't work."

Naruhel left her side for a moment and when she was far from sight Coruwen darted over to Thranduil and sat in front of him. "Fix this before she pulls my hair out." She pleaded.

The Elvenking complied and began to fix the mess of braids into the exact braid Dís had formed the other day. His fingers were gentle, almost feather like. She relaxed as Thranduil wove the braids together to form the waterfall braid that tumbled down her back. He tapped her shoulder signaling that he had fixed it. She stood and walked over to her mirror to see that her gold hair had been braided back to reveal her pointed ears and all of the hair was removed from her eyes. Amazingly, Thranduil had managed to control the frizz of her wavy hair.

Naruhel reentered the room and grunted at the sight of Coruwen. "I wanted to do it," She whined. Thranduil smirked and turned back to watching the outside. The healer rolled her wrists in thought. "You want to go ahead?"

Coruwen's stomach filled with nervous jitters. "Yes, best do it now." Coruwen replied walking into her bedroom with Naruhel.

There, upon her bed, was the gold dress that Thranduil and Naruhel had brought with them from Mirkwood. It was an off the shoulder dress, though the sleeves that wrapped around her shoulders were made of a sheer material making it look like there weren't any. Beside it sat a snow white cloak with gold designs depicting swirls. Naruhel helped her into the gold dress and tightened it around her so it fit her like a glove. She fixed the back so it laid flat on the floor several times before deeming it fine.

Naruhel followed Coruwen out of the room and watched as Thranduil stood to observe her. He circled her once before taking her hands in his own. The Elvenking smiled and took her face with one hand, looking into her eyes. Coruwen saw the flash of his heart scar again, which made her place her hand on his wrist. He removed his hand and gestured for Naruhel. The healer wrapped the cloak around Coruwen's shoulders and attaching its gold chain around her collarbone.

"Thranduil," Coruwen said quietly. The king responded with a simple noise. She saw him not look at her, and she took his face with one hand. "You seem unsettled again."

"I am fine, my dear." He replied gently. His eyes searched her face with a great deal of fondness in his gaze. "You look beautiful, and the King under the Mountain is lucky." He let out a small laugh, "Very, very lucky, indeed."

"How long do we have to wait again?" Naruhel asked. Both king and lady looked at the healer, who was draped over the side of a sofa, twirling pieces of her auburn hair. "I'm now bored."

"Until Dís fetches me, I suppose. The two of you are fine to run about, but I have to stay in here." Coruwen stated, slightly frustrated. When she started to walk she felt the cloak and dress slightly lag behind her since they both touched the floor. Moreover, the cloak was similar to a train in that it followed after her. Thranduil sat back in his chair, and Naruhel left the room to go investigate Erebor. "Seems a bit ridiculous to be caged in here."

"Tis a tradition of both races," Thranduil told her. Coruwen played with the tips of her hair; boredom playing with her mind. "It is believed by our kin that if one sees the other; their children will be cursed with death before majority. Dwarves, on the other hand, believe that Mahal won't condone their marriage, thus not allowing their loved ones to follow them into the Halls of Aulë."

Coruwen swallowed her nerves. "Seems a bit, uh, macabre for both races," She whispered. Thranduil sighed heavily. "What is wrong?"

"I saw my wife on the day of our wedding before we were supposed to meet; I believe that is one of the reasons that my son passed."

"Thranduil, even you told me that his death was a freak accident." He looked up at her with a small bit of sadness lingering in his eyes. "You have Legolas. You should be blessed with a son like him."

"I suppose."

"Do not mourn your son's death. For this day is meant to be happy," She walked over to him and took his hand. "You are an Elven Lord, and thus should not mourn anyone. You were blessed with a second son, who is more than you will ever need." A knock at her door made her turn to face it. "Who is it?"

"Me," Fili's voice replied from the other side.

"You can come in, Fili," Coruwen said.

The door cracked open so Fili could slip in, and he straightened out his blonde hair a bit before looking at her. His eyes widened with a bit of pink dusting his cheeks. "Uh, we're about ready for you outside." Fili stammered. Coruwen walked toward him, taking his face to make their gazes meet. He physically relaxed and looked her over. "Uncle has been driving Amad crazy… I think she's about ready to strangle him."

Coruwen let out a small laugh. "Why would you say that?"

"There was a tiny communication problem this morning and they got into it then, and it happened _again_ not too long ago when she was trying to make sure he stayed away from this wing of corridors." Fili explained, a small snicker escaping him. "Dwalin finally had to remove Uncle from the entire equation."

"That will keep him out of trouble, I suppose." She left his side, feeling anxiety and nerves get the better of her again. She was ungodly nervous to the point where she thought she was going to faint a number of times. She came to sit in a chair, ringing her hands in order to calm herself. "Thranduil, we best finish it off."

"_Ai, Rîs nîn," _Thranduil replied, standing to walk over to a glossy, mahogany box. He opened the lid and removed the crown he had given to her. He gingerly placed it on her head and then proceeded to fix the strands of beads and metallic leaves. The Elvenking walked around her, and offered her his hand. She took it coming to stand at his side. Fili smiled big and opened the door the rest of the way for the two to leave. She gripped his arm tighter as they approached the main hall where she could hear the voices of people she knew… Her allies, and close friends. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Once it begins," Coruwen whispered back. She watched as Fili opened the door to reveal Freya lying around the stone pillars with her flicking tail nearest the door. Around her neck sat a gleaming tiger's eye and she smiled at the sight of Coruwen.

Thorin stood beside Freya's right paw wearing a coat of dark blue rimmed with grey wolf fur. His raiment was that of a high king, colors of silver and blue identical to that of his eyes. Beside, on a lower step, stood Kili dressed in garbs of jade and black. Fili stood on the step low step as his brother, but stood on the opposite side nearest Freya's back haunch that was covered by one of her wings.

It seemed as if the voices that had been so loud earlier became drowned out by the blood that pounded in the elleth's ears. When Thranduil's arm slid out from hers, she felt like she had been dropped into a pit of wolves. She heart stopped when her hand was covered by one meant for wielding sharp blades. Her eyes met Thorin's and the nervousness within her died down, but she still could not hear any words being spoken. It was as if the world around her had gone mute. Her eyes wandered up to Freya, who was speaking aloud looking outwards into the crowd of people. The elegant dragoness shifted her weight to her elbows before speaking again. Slowly, Coruwen returned her gaze to Thorin, who was watching her with a fond gaze. She gave him a small smile, which was returned to her.

And from there, time seemed to drag on.

Finally, through the screaming silence came Freya's gentle voice. The dragoness watched the elleth intently before speaking. "By the mark of the Great One, Daughter of Ainulindale, do you promise to protect one of the children of Aulë?"

Coruwen looked up at Freya, giving her a nod. "Of course," She said clearly. Her own voice's clarity mentally surprised her.

Freya let out a rumble before glancing down at Thorin. "And by the mark of the Great One, Son of Sigin tarâg, do you promise to protect this child of Ainulindale?"

"Yes, Great Queen," Thorin replied.

The dragoness swished her tail, a swish that started from her abdomen and rattled the chain around her neck. "So be it," Freya smiled. "Voices of both sides have conjoined, and together let them be heard from every inch of land on this Middle Earth. Long live the King and Queen of Erebor!"

The words were repeated by a small, mouse like voice in the very front. Bilbo slipped through and gave the two a big smile. "Long live the King and Queen!" Bilbo shouted.

The words slowing webbed out into the crowd until it became a great cheer of clapping and shouts. Coruwen smiled and looked down at Thorin, who smiled out at the crowd before them.

"Together, dear," Thorin whispered, squeezing her hand. The two stepped down from the dais, watching the people split away like a great divide. Before people approached them, Freya let out a thunderous roar and smiled down at her smaller allies.

"I honor the two of you with the graces of my father and his father before him," Freya stated. The king and queen turned reaching out to the great dragon as she touched both of their hands. Upon the backs of their hands glowed a gold symbol that neither knew of the origin of; in fact the runes went up their arms ending at their elbow. "_Askk, Brii, Dun."_ Freya removed her nose and heaved a deep breath. The gold runes faded away and their hands returned to normal.

"What does that mean?" Coruwen asked.

"Aspects that will grace your lives. I gave you three words: love, beauty, and grace." Freya stated. Coruwen took Thorin's hand again before turning back to the people in front of them. "Do not forget those words, dear ones."

"We will not, Freya," Coruwen replied as the two walked back into the crowd. The first person who walked up to them was Dís and Bilbo, who hugged the king and queen tightly. "Bilbo, you made it."

Bilbo smiled as she ran a hand through his hair. "Wouldn't miss the two of marrying for the world!" Bilbo laughed. "I was a bit late getting here, so I stayed with Bard and Lady Iris."

"Of course," Coruwen rose from her kneel and caught Dís' fond gaze falling on her. "Dís…"

The princess gripped Coruwen's elbow in a firm grip with her blue eyes shining brightly. "Sister," Dís stated with a small huff of laughter. The namesake made the elleth laugh with the princess. Dís saw two more people out of the corner of her eye and grabbed Bilbo quickly so others could talk. Granted, the hobbit didn't know what was going on as he was being dragged off, but he merely blinked in shock.

Coruwen intertwined her fingers with Thorin's feeling relief wash over her soul. What nerves she had come to possess were sent away by the feeling of her king beside her. No, Thorin had always been her king… He was her husband now, and it felt strange to hear those words coming from her inner most thoughts. She knew that one day she would marry, but never to a king. In fact, she thought she would marry a man similar to her father. It never _ever_ crossed her mind that she would marry a man like Thorin.

Much of the day became taken up by the feast, which ended late at night. However, as the people of Dale returned home to their own city, the company slowly wandered into the main hall to be with their new king and queen in a more peaceful environment. The last dwarf to enter the hall shut the door keeping out others. Everyone gathered around Freya while Coruwen and Thorin sat upon the dragoness' paws.

"How does it feel to be queen now?" Ori asked as he set down his sketchbook.

Coruwen smiled down at him, but deep within herself she did not know how to answer such a question. She played with her fingers, which bore no ring upon them anymore. "It feels...Strange," She replied. "To be honest, I never thought I would end up ruling over a kingdom with someone."

"You're cut out for it," Dori pointed out. "I see no other to take up that place." Dori watched Ori for a moment before swiping his sketchbook from his hands since he wouldn't leave it be. Ori tried to grab it, but was stopped by Nori pushing him over onto his side like a toppled over vase. "Anyway, I do not mean that since the two of you are together. If I think of someone to rightfully take up the throne beside Thorin, it was you."

"Aye, same," Came the reply from the others. Their words were kind, making the elleth feel rather lighthearted. She felt a hand wrap around hers. Her eyes flicked back to Thorin, who was peering down at his fellow dwarves as they all laughed with the other.

"How come you spoke, Freya?" Coruwen asked looking up at her dragon. The daughter of Ancalagon chuckled, wrapping her tail around her back legs. There was a mischievous glint in the dragoness' amber eyes that made Coruwen wonder what all Freya had done. "Freya…"

"It was an idea given to me by a little raven," Freya said blissfully. "And no, I'm not telling you who that person was." The elf smacked Freya on the shoulder, though it did not faze the dragon at all. Freya merely let out a booming laugh at the feeling. "My Dear one, you cannot hurt me."

"Aye, we've tried," Gloín put in as the laughter subsided. "Dragons don't feel an awful lot through that thick hide of scales."

Freya let out a scoff, rolling her eyes. "I could say the same for your people, Gloín," Freya's voice became steely. "However, your race has proved me wrong before."

* * *

There was a small grumble between the group as Freya teased them. Thorin glanced up at Freya, who was smiling down at them with a few pointed teeth poking through her lips. The dragoness had been kind enough to speak for them earlier; a kindness that surprised him. However, he not asked Freya to perform it any other day; she might not have done it. He wanted this day to be different and special for his love. Freya was close to Coruwen, and for the dragon to speak on their behalf was something he thought she would hold close to her.

He had been correct. He look of love in his queen's eyes was something that made him beyond overjoyed to behold. She had before him appearing like a goddess in corporeal form; a sight that he had not expected at first. In his eyes, she was always beautiful; today there was a certain ethereal quality she possessed that about made his heart stop. Thorin had decided that Varda had blessed Coruwen herself with this beauty.

Beneath his hand, he felt her thumb run across the heel of his own. Through the rolling gold waves of her hair, Thorin saw one blue eye looking at him. Strands of her hair were falling free of the braid that she wore, and gently he tucked them back behind her pointed ear. He could feel the eyes of his friends on him. Coruwen smiled at his touch.

The hall was oddly quiet, so quiet one could hear the wind rustle the banners hung in the room. Thorin looked at Gloín, who slightly narrowed his eyes at him. The king gave Gloín a nod, and then the dwarf disappeared into the shadows of the room. There was something that he needed to give Coruwen before the night was done. His hand loosened around Coruwen's own when the conversations started again.

Gloín disappeared for a long while; most thought he might've gotten sidetracked with Gimli somewhere. Dori and Ori had fallen asleep leaning on the other, and a few had decided to wander off. The peace that now had come over the mountain was almost soothing. There hadn't been a long silence like the one currently since the beginning of the week. Dís had been driving everyone crazy, and since then there had been little to no peace. It seemed that everyone was just taking it in currently.

Even Thorin was expecting his sister to drag him off somewhere, but she hadn't appeared since Bard and Iris had left. It was strange… Unnerving even. The door cracked open revealing a sight that made Coruwen and Thorin leap down from Freya's paw.

In the doorway, stood a tall elderly man with a long grey beard, storm grey hat and robes, a staff of knotted wood in hand, and striking, light blue eyes peering up from the rim of the hat. Gandalf….

"Mithrandir!" Coruwen laughed. She picked up her skirts and hugged the Istar tightly. Gandalf laughed as she embraced him. "How in the world did you know?"

Gandalf chuckled. "How would I not? It is not every day that one hears about a queen returning to Erebor's throne. I thought of no other than you, my lady." His blue eyes twinkled happily as the company swarmed him. Coruwen stepped back, waiting for Thorin to greet the wizard. "Many greetings to you, King under the Mountain." Gandalf bowed slightly to Thorin.

"You're late," Thorin said bluntly. Gandalf chuckled at the deadpan tone of the king. "Nonetheless, I am glad to see you here."

"I was merely delayed, Thorin," Gandalf stated with a light tone. "And I am glad I made it with some time on my side. Your marriage has corralled many races to this great hall. You even brought the Elvenking here, which is a rarity."

"No other would represent the elves," Coruwen said. Gandalf let out a hum, looking at her in mild curiosity. "I have been put aside by the elves of Imladris and Lothlórien."

"Have you assured the latter?"

Coruwen shook her head. "No, but I am sure that Elrond has spoken to my father about this." Her voice became soft as she curled her hands into the folds of her dress. "My father and I haven't spoken since the return to this mountain."

"Then I will fix that," Gandalf motioned for her to follow him. The wizard slipped through the door, and when Coruwen tried to follow him, a hand stopped her. Thorin held her wrist in a firm grip with his eyes narrowed.

"_I need to do this," _Coruwen told him. He shifted his weight backward, bringing her closer to him. "Thorin…" His grip released at her voice dropping to a slightly irritated one. She followed Gandalf out of the main hall, down a flight of steps to the main gate. The wizard's horse stood, greeting him with a happy whinny. Gandalf approached the horse and fished something out of his saddlebags. He brought forth a letter for her.

"It is from your father," Gandalf said gently. Coruwen stared up at him in horror. "Go on; open it."

Dread crept underneath Coruwen's skin as she pried the letter loose of the envelope. Her father's handwriting was before her; his writing was clearly focused because it wasn't scrawled and lopsided. No, it was uniform. As she read the letter over; her heart felt as if it were being stabbed with a lance. She held back her sadness, shoving it to the back of her mind. Her heart shattered into a million pieces when she read the bottom of the page.

_-I'm sorry, Coruwen. _

Haldir had not signed the bottom; which was very strange for him. The letter seemed to be forced as if he were holding back an emotion. Her hands dropped the letter and Gandalf took her hands in his own. The Istar looked at her hands, running his long fingers over the top of hers. Gandalf's blue eyes became serious, and he let out a sigh.

"You gave it away then?" Gandalf inquired in a quiet voice.

Coruwen swallowed her wave like emotions. "I cannot picture a life without him with me…" She said sadly. "It was either give it away, or fade when he passed."

"I will not go against your decision, Lady Queen… Tis your life to live," Gandalf replied. "Come on, we best get inside before the others start worrying." He walked back inside with Coruwen left to stand outside. She looked up to the sky looking at the great bright star Elbereth that hung in the sky. Sadness gripped her heart in a python like hold making it feel as if her breathing was being cut off.

"_Ada… I'm sorry," _Coruwen whispered, clutching her sides. She mentally told herself to not cry. However, that did not stop her weeping internally. The door behind her creaked open and she whirled around. The white cloak she wore touching the tips of her feet. Fili stood in the doorway, looking at her curiously. "Fili…" The dwarf walked up to her hesitantly and took her wrist.

"Is everything all right?" Fili asked, peering up at her. She saw how much care was visible in his eyes. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her close to him, leaning his head against hers. "Coruwen, did something happen?"

Coruwen shook her head and pulled away from him with her hands resting on his shoulders. It was better to have Fili here than Thorin. She knew if Thorin knew of this letter there would be a problem between him and Gandalf, who was simply a messenger. "It was my father…" She murmured. "He is rather upset at me..."

"Angry?"

"No, rather ashamed."

Fili sighed. "He shouldn't be; his daughter is a queen now. By far the prettiest queen we've had." Coruwen smiled at his remark. "Granted, if my daughter ran off with a group that I knew nothing about and suddenly became married I would question her as well. However, I would not hold it against her; it was her choice."

"My father is a strict man, and believes in all of the customs of the elves. I should have known he would do this to me when I married Thorin." She cast her gaze downwards, feeling grief tackle her down.

"No, no no no, don't be upset." He patted her shoulder, giving her a smile. "You look shouldn't be upset… Why don't you go find Uncle? He was starting to bug Gandalf when he came back inside without you."

The elleth nodded and stood to return back inside. "Fili," She said. He looked up at her, tipping his head to the side. "Thank you."

Fili chuckled, "You're my aunt now; I've gotta be good for something."

Coruwen walked back into Erebor and heard Thorin's voice to her left towards his chambers. She walked off towards the direction of his voice to find him talking with Bilbo. The hobbit was clearing forcing himself awake because his brown eyes were slightly droopy and his appearance skewed.

"Ah, Coruwen, you're back," Bilbo said in relief. "Is everything all right?"

Coruwen patted his head, "Everything is fine, my _perian_." She assured him. "You look a bit tired."

Bilbo hummed, "I feel it, trust me."

"You and I will catch up tomorrow; go and rest." Coruwen replied. The hobbit nodded and sauntered off in the direction of the guest chambers. She glanced over her shoulder at Thorin, who motioned for her to follow him. Once inside, his hand wrapped around her waist. "I'm sorry for worrying you. Gandalf gave me a letter from my father."

"I figured he had given you something," Thorin replied. He led her over to a sofa, where he pulled her down next to him. The look in his eyes became fond, identical to the one he wore earlier. His hands rose to her face and cupped her cheek. "You are most fair, love."

It was then that he kissed her lips softly, feeling her return his love with the same amount of softness. She remembered when he had kissed her in Mirkwood, feeling his emotion pour into her like a river. He was withholding his emotions, coaxing love's fire to the fore front of her mind. Coruwen kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck at the feeling of love grow in her heart. One of his hands rested on the side of her face while the other held her waist.

Thorin broke away from her and placed small kisses on her lips and spoke as he did so. "Let us venture elsewhere, my queen."

* * *

A/N: All I can say is: YAY!

Ainulindale: Child of Ainur, or the Music of Ainur.

The language Freya is speaking is from Skyrim: The Elder Scrolls, and I do not own it in anyway.

_Please review! _


	11. Chapter 11

**_An Understanding_**

* * *

Thorin opened one eye, feeling the cold of air bite at him in his sleep. His hand instinctively reached for Coruwen, but found her not to be there. He sat up trying to find her in the darkness. He wondered how she could have gotten away from him; then he reminded himself that she was an elf and could slip away undetected easily. He wrapped himself in a robe and walked out of their room to find her standing on the balcony that overlooked the vast distance between Erebor and Ered Mithrin.

Coruwen had been staring off into space lately; she had been doing so since Freya had left when the dragoness came to visit. Thorin knew Coruwen loved Freya dearly, but there was an underlying cause to this strange behavior that he did not understand. Freya had been the one to marry them two years ago, and was a dear friend to his wife. He watched her for a few seconds to make sure she wasn't going to turn around before he started towards her.

The wind played with Coruwen's gold hair and nightgown. She practically appeared like a phantom with long gold tresses that hung down to her low back. Gently, Thorin placed his hand on her low back and she stiffened beneath his touch. No doubt the ring on his hand was cold; for even his necklace was starting to have the chill spider its way around it.

"What is troubling you?" He asked quietly as he played with the tips of her hair. The elleth looked down at him with somewhat vacant expression. Instantly, her attention turned to the outside again. Thorin pulled her close to him, and one slender hand pressed itself to his chest to stop him. She was fighting him, and he wanted to know why. Her fingers graced his necklace and she looked down at him with a bit of wild fear in her eyes. Tentatively, he spoke to her again. "Coruwen, what is bothering you?"

"You do not take it off?" Coruwen whispered. Her eyes focused on his chest, where a white stone pendant hung loosely. His hand encompassed hers and her eyes rose up to his. The sky blue they typically possessed was exchanged with a dark ocean blue; a sign she was tired. Thorin decided that she was a bit frayed and led her back inside. She sat on a lounging sofa playing with the hem of her gown. Her wits weren't about her right now; his Coruwen wasn't present.

Thorin sat behind her and pulled her back so that she lay against his chest. Coruwen's fingers played with the silver chain around his neck, pulling the Evenstar free. He watched her trace tiny designs on the opalescent white stone. The necklace was a symbol of their devotion to the other.

"Do you remember what you told me?" Thorin asked. Her blue eyes snapped to his, slightly startling him. Coruwen reached up and pulled herself closer to him. "Do you?"

"Why would I not?" Coruwen replied, her voice returning to its normal tone. "I chose to give my immortality away so you could live longer; a choice I will never forget."

He let out a small laugh, "I believe we both will not forget that."

Her hand cupped the pendant, staring at it intently. "It was upon the morning after our bonding that I gave this to you." Coruwen traced the chain up and around the back of his neck, where her hand rested. Her hand was cold against the back of his neck, a trait that was common with her. In fact, she was colder than normal currently even pressed up against him like she was. Her free hand stroked his jaw, which made him inhale deeply. "You thought I had lost my mind."

Thorin kissed her forehead. "You were giving away what your people hold dearest. I thought you were toying with me…"

Coruwen pulled herself up and kissed him firmly. Her gold hair created a veil around them as she placed a hand on the side of his face. He found himself being able to hear her heart within his ears as he deepened the kiss by pulling her closer to him. Her delicate frame was pressed up against him with his arms wrapped around her hips. Their release brought forth a soft smile from both of them as she rested her forehead against his.

"I love you," Thorin whispered as her hand brushed up against his cheek.

"And I love you too," Coruwen breathed. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and nuzzled him. "It was for this reason that I gave it away. I would not be able to love you if you passed away." She sat up with a small bit of sadness lingering in her blue eyes. "Giving away my immortality," Her hand placed itself on his heart, "Is far less of a punishment than loosing you to time's cruelty."

"Is that what you are upset about?" Coruwen shook her head, and he sat up so he could look at her. Thorin took her face in his hands, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I will not pass, so long as I am with you. That I can assure you of; for age has not graced me since we have been married. But tell me what troubles you…"

Coruwen moved his hands away from her face, placing them in her lap. "A shadow has been brooding in the east and south, as of late. I cannot sleep because it seems to be moving towards Erebor and the Iron Hills."

"Shadow?" Thorin didn't understand by what she meant. The look in her eyes changed to the normal peaceful expression she wore. Her hands tightened around his as he narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean?"

"Dark forces… Similar to those in Mirkwood or in Dol Guldur; however they move with the timing of Men."

"You must be talking about Easterlings…"

"That statement is a double edged sword. The darkness that has come into my mind sees a great evil, like a Nazgul. However, the lust for power is a signal of Men; meaning that both are present."

"And they march here?"

"Yes, it will take them about three days' time to reach Dain. To reach Erebor and Dale will take five days from the Iron Hills."

Thorin felt stress bear down on him. It seemed that battle had just come and gone. Now, it was riding to his home once more, from a place few know of. He let out a sigh, feeling his mind split in many different directions. How could he get word to Dain with no other evidence other than the words spoken by his queen? Dain was still unsure of having an elf as his ruler, but Thorin was unsure if his cousin would listen. On his shoulders, he felt Coruwen's hands rest. He shut his eyes in an attempt to calm his frayed mind, but still he felt spread.

"Thorin, you're over thinking things. Dain will listen to us; he always has," Coruwen assured him. She stood from her place beside him and started towards their bedroom. "We'll speak with the others in the morning. I am sure that Balin or Gloín will have some idea on how to get through to Dain that Easterlings are coming."

"If you believe so," He followed her, and came to rest beside her. As she laid her head on his chest, he wrapped an arm around her. When sleep came to him, he felt dread creep into his mind, thus making him stay awake. For a long while he stroked his wife's hair and felt her breathing deepen as she slept next to him. Then, something came to his mind.

_The Evenstar… _

Thorin's fingers pulled the Evenstar up and it was barely visible in the light. In the back of his mind, he heard Coruwen's voice telling him to take the pendant. She had freely given her heart to him; freely given up the Life of the Eldar so she could be with him.

"_I would rather spend long years and pass away, than live throughout the centuries alone without you beside me. It is my life to give to whom I choose, and you are the only one I would freely give it to. With this, you are marked as the keeper of my heart." _

This small object held a great force within; it was a symbol, a catalyst, and container. He dropped the pendant back onto his chest, and focused his mind on Coruwen. He slowly released the chain holding his spirit and let it remind him of her. As he drifted off to sleep, his breathing and heartbeat matched hers; giving him a sense of peace over his stressed self.

"_Shut up, if they hear us, you're getting into trouble," _A voice snapped. Coruwen's ears picked up the sounds of a young girl's voice, too young to be any child in fact. There was a small thump that was heard followed by a hiss of silence. _"Stop it!" _

Coruwen recognized that voice… It was out in the hall, and the voice belonged to Sol. Coruwen tried to sit up, but was pulled back down by Thorin's arm. His face was peaceful and the blankets around his waist. She placed her hand on his bare chest which made him twitch.

"Thorin, get up," Coruwen said softly, playing with his dark hair. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled. She was surprised he reacted so quickly. Typically, he would have continued to sleep and she would have to flick water at him to get him up. That typically ended in a game of him chasing her around the bedroom. Coruwen had been with him for two years now, and learned different methods other than flicking water at her husband; she just found that method to be amusing. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," He replied simply. "And how are you?"

Coruwen blinked in shock, feeling like the man before her wasn't Thorin at all. Carefully she spoke. "I am surprised…"

Thorin's arm came off of her and she slid out of bed. There was a hum behind her as she pulled a dress out of the cabinet. She heard him walking about the room, and it bothered her a bit seeing him awake like this. Had she bothered him by speaking about the Easterlings? She wouldn't divulge into that topic quite yet considering that she would have to talk to Balin about it.

"Why are you surprised?" Thorin's voice questioned. Coruwen slid off her night gown and into a purple and silver dress. Her fingers played with the loop that went around her middle finger as she turned to face him. The slightly happy expression that was on her husband's face faded into one of concern. Such an expression was common lately that it hurt her to see his happiness fade away.

"Did I bother you when I spoke of the Easterlings?" Coruwen asked. She walked forward and touched placed her hand on the side of his face. He spoke no words; she could see the answer clearly in his eyes. They were dark; the eyes she loved so much were clouded by emotion.

"It made me realize that this world is falling back into the old ways that my Grandfather and Father spoke many times when I was young," Thorin said, walking out of her reach. "If the Easterlings wish to take my kingdom then they have another idea in their minds."

* * *

Fili wondered why there had been a meeting called in the early afternoon. He _had_ been helping Kili train Sol on how to use daggers, but the minute he got started with teaching form his mother dragged him away. Of course, Uncle had needed him the minute he wanted to do anything of mild interest. Dís called these timings called Princely Duties; he mentally called them annoyances. Because that's what they were, Annoyances…

Now, he was standing beside Coruwen as she spoke of Easterlings. She was clearly unsettled by this and it seemed to rub off onto Thorin. Fili had seen his uncle perplexed, but now he was holding back his agitation so much that he gripped Orcrist as it sat on his hip. Before Fili and Balin laid a map of the vast landscape of Rhun; several Dwarven cities were circled with Erebor and the Iron Hills amongst the red ink circles. It was slightly unnerving to see the circles; they seemed to be staring blankly up at the people above them.

"Dain will listen to us when we give word," Balin soothed as Coruwen paced back and forth. "He might question us for a split second, but if what you say is true and Easterlings are three days away, then he will have to act."

"I understand that, Balin. However, the information we have is from what my sight has seen. The dwarves of the Iron Hills still do not trust my logic," Coruwen stated. Fili saw her halt in her pacing and glare at the advisor. Balin didn't shrink away, but gave her a reprimanding look. His aunt let out a sigh and gripped the table. Her gold hair shrouded her face as she took deep breaths. Hesitantly, Fili walked over to her and placed his hand on her back. Coruwen straightened with one hand sweeping back her hair. "I am still an elven outsider in some people's eyes. I am not seen as a queen."

"Aye, but Dain _will_ have to trust you; even if it is just this once. Regardless of what he tries to say; you are the wife of his cousin, meaning you are the Queen of Erebor." Gloín pointed out.

"Gloín is right," Thorin said walking up to Coruwen. The two exchanged a small look before Coruwen backed away. "Dain is going to have to trust us, and he knows of the power of the Easterlings. They are quite formidable when they catch someone off guard. However, if Dain is prepared then it will slow the attack that is coming here."

"One is coming here?" Gloín asked in bewilderment. The treasurer looked at his king and queen with wide eyes, and they both nodded. "Mahal help us."

Coruwen turned with one finger tapping Erebor's red ink circle. "They will be here in five days' time should they make it to the Iron Hills. Easterlings have a habit of splitting their forces into ships since they are close to the Sea of Rhun. If one force makes it to the Hills, than one will most likely ride to Erebor faster."

Fili tightened his hands into fists. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach so tight that he felt like he was going to gag. Stress was bearing down on him. The Battle of Five Armies made him nervous, and _this_ was making him have that feeling all over again. No doubt this would throw Erebor into a frenzy. The small tap of Orcrist touching the floor made Fili's attention snap back into the room once more.

"Now that we have _that_ decided," Thorin said under his breath. He turned his gaze on Fili, who stiffened under his uncle's hard gaze. "Fili, speak to Cairn and tell him to fly to the Iron Hills to tell Dain about the Easterling attack."

"Yes, Uncle," Fili replied shortly. He darted out of the room and made his way toward Cairn's Roost. He believed that Röac would send a raven in the stead of his son, but Cairn was the ruler of the Roost since Röac lost his sanity about a year ago. The old raven only sang simple Blackbird songs or mimicked other birds now. Kili desperately wanted to stick an arrow in Röac's chest because the raven attacked him last time and honestly, Fili wanted to let him because that _bird_ was becoming a hindrance.

Upon entering, Cairn's sister gave out a welcoming song that made Cairn turn his head to the young heir. Fili lifted his forearm for Cairn, who landed on it with a curious look in his eyes. Fili saw how fluffy he looked; he was molting his beautiful ebony feathers in place of ones that were pitch black. Kili was going to have to get up here before Cairn tossed them all out.

"Greetings, Fili, son of Dís," Cairn greeted with a bow of his head. Fili repeated the small bow and Cairn let out little chirp in his throat. "What do you need of me?"

Fili let out a breath, "Uncle needs you to fly to the Iron Hills and warn Lord Dain about an Easterling attack that is coming in three days' time."

Cairn lifted his wings and hovered in the air. "How do you know of this attack?"

"Aunt Coruwen has been sensing it," Fili told him, his voice becoming slightly edgy. The way Cairn questioned an order seemed a tad insolent, but he was a raven… They questioned everything. The amber eyes of Cairn cocked his head to the side. "You know how the elves function, bloody bird."

"I know, I know." Cairn laughed. "I will make sure it is done with haste, young Heir." The raven lord flew out of the small opening that led the overcast world outside. Fili shook his head and left the roost. He returned to his uncle and aunt to find them alone without Balin or Gloín. Fili could see from his position in the corridor doorway that Coruwen was bothered by something. He tried his best to be quiet and get close to her side, but saw her blue eyes land on him instantly. A soft smile came to her lips as she looked him over.

"I'm not bothering you are I?" Fili said in a hushed voice. Coruwen shook her head and she motioned for him to go come over. He walked over to her side, and felt her hand pass across his hair. He would've typically veered away from such a gesture, but there was something about the way Coruwen stroked his head that felt like she was speaking to him in a gesture. Her hand drifted off of his head and fell back onto the arm of her chair. Her other hand rested on top of Thorin's wrist loosely as he whispered to himself about the attack that was coming. Coruwen shared a small smile with Fili before running her fingers across Thorin's hand. He had remembered when they did not use such gestures to get the other's attention. And Fili believed that only came with time, along with many other things that changed a person.

One obvious trait that had bloomed was their bantering and teasing. They did it typically within the confines of the company and family. Fili was starting to see it as Coruwen played with the hem of Thorin's coat. An amused smile creased her face, but Thorin wasn't focusing on her. Coruwen tugged on a strand of his hair so that his attention was on her.

"It will be fine, just as you said," Coruwen assured him. Fili saw Thorin give her nod, and then his gaze fell on him. The firm gaze he had possessed earlier had faded away into a one of fondness. Fili smiled at his uncle, before hearing a door be thrown open.

"FILI!" Sol's voice laughed.

_Oh no…_

Fili turned his attention to the door to see Sol running at him with her red hair flying behind her. He knelt down to her level, and when she tackled him he fell over in the force. She giggled as she sat on his chest playing with his hair. He could hear the laughter of his aunt and uncle overhead. He grabbed the giggling little girl and looked her dead in the eyes.

"Hi," Sol greeted placing one hand on his forehead. Fili couldn't help but smile at her cheerful attitude.

"Hi," Fili said holding back a laugh. Sol darted out of his grip, coming to sit at the feet of Coruwen. "Where's Kili?"

"Playing Hide and Seek with me." Sol replied simply. Fili didn't believe her, thinking that she must've tricked Kili into something. That's how Sol worked; she was devious little girl. He eyed her, and Sol shrunk down. "He got locked outside!"

"Thank you," Fili whispered patting her head. He stood, following the way Sol had run from and found a door with a chair in front of it. The wood door was cracked and Fili saw his brother's fingers attempting to pry open the lock. "Squirrel?"

"I want back inside," Kili whined. God, he sounded pathetic... Fili mushed the chair aside with his foot, and the door flew open with Kili skidding before him like a doormat. His brother's dark hair was ruffled and his bow missing along with his quiver. Kili rolled onto his back, glaring up at the ceiling. "Where'd she put 'em?"

"Put what?"

"My stuff!" Kili leapt up with an angry fire in his eyes that Fili had found odd. However, he agreed with Kili; if someone stole his swords, locked him outside, and then ran away he'd be fairly upset too. His brother darted off into the lower regions of the corridor in search of his things. There were cruses flying from his brother that he hoped that their mother wouldn't hear. After watching Kili open a few door and search with no avail, Fili decided to speak to Sol about what she did with Kili's things. "Tell Sol I'm gonna get her if I don't find my stuff!"

"Uh-huh," Fili drawled as he walked back to find Sol. He found the little girl still sitting by Coruwen as his aunt played with her red hair. The elleth's finger wove several long tresses into one long braid that rested on the girl's shoulder. Sol's green eyes lit up at the sight of Fili, and he gave a bright smile as he came to sit beside her. "Sol…"

"Yes?" Sol laughed. Fili saw the mischievous look glow in her eyes as she peered up at him through the flame red strands of hair that fell into her eyes.

"So, I found Kili," Fili began. He watched as Sol paled, letting out a nervous giggle. "And he is looking for his bow and quiver, which he says _you_ hid."

Sol scoffed, "I did not!"

"No other person could have hidden Kili's things, Sol." Coruwen said with a slightly motherly tone. Sol crossed her arms and pouted. Coruwen chuckled and tied a black ribbon around the braids she had made in Sol's hair. "Go show the boys where you hid Kili's weapons."

Sol leapt up from her spot, grabbed Fili's hand, and dragged him down the same exact corridor Kili had been rummaging through. At the sound of Sol's little stomps, Kili tumbled out of room wrapped in a rope. His gold eyes narrowed at the sight of Sol, but she tapped his mouth shut with a tap of her slipper. Fili snickered at the sight of Kili, who just stuck his tongue out at him. Fili saw his brother like a an inch worm now as he slinked after Sol as she pried open a stone brick and then two others around it.

Within sat Kili's bow and quiver.

Fili laughed as Kili untangled himself so he could dive for his weapons. He clutched the weapons close to him and glared at Sol. The girl put her hands on her hips, giving him a hard stare.

"You, Little Sun, have a sick sense of humor!" Kili scolded. Within a second, Kili hugged Sol to him. "And I love you for it…"

Fili shook his head, not understanding his brother's backwards way of seeing things. He shrugged and put the stones back into the wall. There was a small shout of disapproval and a yelp. Kili sat on the floor, rubbing his forehead. Sol glared at him darkly with her little foot tapping the floor.

"C'mon you two, let it drop," Fili said. The two looked up at him, and begrudgingly followed him back into the main hall. The sound of metal upon metal made his attention fall on his uncle and aunt. The two were sparring, which was rather out of the ordinary. The two had very opposite fighting styles; one consisting of hard strokes that would throw just about anyone off balance and the other consisted of faster strokes meant to confuse.

Orcrist was pointed directly at Coruwen's chest as she was pushed up against a pillar. The glimmer of Elven steel flickered as it sheathed back into its place at Thorin's hip. Coruwen pulled her hair away from her face and wrapped it back onto her shoulder. Thorin pulled her up beside him and she straightened her skirts.

"I see you found your weapons, Kili," Thorin stated. Kili nodded and picked up Sol, who kicked and flailed in his grip. Thorin chuckled at the sight of Sol, and when she heard Thorin, she froze. "Ease down Sol, Kili won't hurt you."

"Yet," Kili murmured.

Fili saw Coruwen raise an eyebrow, meaning she must've heard him. She rolled her wrist once before sheathing the curved blade into an elegantly carved scabbard. Fili walked over to her side so he could observe the blade closely. It was a short blade; a very strange piece of weaponry for an elf. Elves were a tall race, and this blade was made for someone about half their normal size.

"What do you see, my lion?" Coruwen inquired kneeling down beside him. Fili ran his fingers over the elegantly carved vines that were etched with Cirth runes. Fili slowly tore his gaze away from the blade's scabbard and into the eyes of his aunt. He was so close to her that he could see light grey flecks in her light blue eyes, a whirlpool of grey and deep sky blue.

"This blade is too short for you," Fili said under his breath.

Coruwen seemed startled by the statement, and her hand caressed the blade like a long lost pet. "It was a gift from my father when I was young…" She muttered. "I have yet to ask your uncle for a new one."

Fili glanced over his shoulder to see Thorin speaking to Kili and Sol. "I bet you we could find materials for it here…"

"Fili, I know you're being generous, but I am not a melee fighter." Fili took her hand and she sighed. "Ever stubborn is the line of Durin…"

"You bet," Fili chuckled moving aside strands of his blonde hair. He turned his attention over his shoulder. "Hey, Thorin, we could find materials to make Auntie a _proper_ sword, right?"

Thorin blinked in recognition for a minute, and then nodded. "I don't see why not," He replied. His dark blue gaze fell on Coruwen. "You could've asked, my queen."

Coruwen laughed nervously. "Slipped my memory," She lied. Fili placed a hand over his eyes, shaking his head. _"Rhui nîn…" _

Fili laughed and started off towards the mines. "C'mon, there has got to be something down there!"

Coruwen shook her head, and watched as Kili and Sol passed them to follow Fili, who seemed oddly exuberant about this whole issue. She felt her hand being grabbed and pulled on to follow. Thorin gave her a playful smirk and pulled her along before she matched his pace.

Fili climbed down a series of steps in the mines and leaned over the edge. He wasn't quite used to this mine; in fact it had rarely been used. As he stared down into the infinite darkness, something caught his eye. Something white…

"Hey, I think I found something!" Fili shouted over his shoulder.

Sol and Kili leaned over the side, peering down into the darkness. Sol stood on her tip toes, but shrank away when heights got the better of her. Fili felt a hand rest on his shoulder and Coruwen appeared at his side with her eyes flicking around in the dark.

Coruwen patted his head, "You're right, my little lion." She looked around for a way down. The queen let out a small noise in her throat. "I believe we have encountered a problem…"

Kili sighed. "That we can't get what brother saw?"

"Aye," Thorin replied stepping back from the ledge. "We need someone small…"

Sol squeaked, trying to hide behind the king as best she could. Fili kneeled down to Sol's level. Her green eyes glared at him, and he caught disapproval in them. "Sol's afraid of heights," Fili stated without a hint of amusement. "I wouldn't scare her like that."

"I can do it," Kili deadpanned. Fili looked at his brother in disbelief; this wasn't Kili at all. Granted, Kili liked a few high places, but he never _ever_ offered to go into a deep mining chasm freely. "Amad has been having me climb up into high places ever since the week before Uncle and Coruwen married."

"If you say so, Squirrel," Fili replied.

It was then that they tied a rope around Kili, and let him clamber his way down into the hole. The younger son of Dís rummaged around in the dark for the white something that Fili had seen. Kili found it, pricking his hand on it in the process, but was pulled up. Fili was surprised by what his brother dragged up.

Under Kili's arm was a pearly white dragon fang…

"Dragon fang?" Fili whispered poking the fang as Kili placed it on the ground.

"One of Smaug's baby teeth," Coruwen informed them as she picked up the tooth. It was slightly curved and cream white with a bit of soot covering it. Fili watched her pick it up, observing the height. It seemed that the Valar wanted them to find it; for it fit Coruwen's height perfectly. Thorin stepped forward and looked the tooth over. "What do you think, love?"

"I can see what the smiths think," Thorin replied. "It will give them a new challenge; no one has ever worked with dragon fangs before."

Coruwen laughed, "I don't think anyone has ever found a dragon baby tooth before."

Now, for someone to be dragging a baby dragon tooth around in Erebor made many nervous. However, when Thorin explained to the weapons smiths that they could work with such a nearly in destructive piece of material they all leapt at the chance to create a sword for their queen. Fili found it uncanny that they found a fang of Smaug's in a mine…

"What would a baby dragon fang be doing in a mine? I'm fairly sure that Smaug couldn't have fit his ego filled head into that space," Fili said.

Coruwen shrugged. "That is an excellent question, my nephew. The only alternative I can think of was that one of your people fled down there in the dragon's plight, and Smaug bit the wall thus splitting his tooth." She assumed. "Knowing Smaug, there could've been a number of good reasons why he tried to fit his head into there."

"Yeah, if you're a dragon," Kili put in. "I didn't even know Smaug was still a baby…"

"Drakes are the adolescent form of a dragon; Smaug was just that. They do not reach their full maturity until they are at least a millennium old. Smaug as just five hundred years old; technically he was still a baby," Coruwen said.

Fili's head started wracking numbers, but couldn't seem to get them in the correct order. "Then how old is our Freya?"

Coruwen hummed, playing with a gold wave. "She was born in the Year of the Trees; she must be as old as Lady Galadriel, maybe more."

"Wow," Kili breathed.

"The sole reason Smaug came to Erebor was because Scatha had killed Freya when he was just a century old, and he came here since he had no other mountain to flee to."

"The bloody dragon is dead, and should stay that way," Thorin grumbled. "You using his fang will most likely represent your place amongst Freya's kindred."

"Hopefully," Coruwen agreed. "However, it will not be completed until the Easterlings have come and gone." A shadow passed over the group, and Coruwen sighed. "I hope to Yavanna that Cairn could talk sense into Dain."

* * *

Cairn landed on a tree beside the River Carnen, watching the murky red water rush over sun bleached stone. He could feel that he was close to the Iron Hills, but the winds around him felt tense. As if the world was holding its breath. His feathers were ruffled by a passing wind that carried a sound that made his little heart stop.

Chanting and horns…

Cairn flew up into the air and saw mass of red and black on the horizon. The queen was wrong; the Easterlings weren't three days' time from the Iron Hills, they were three hours' ride.

Cairn cursed under his breath and flew to the Iron Hills with a great amount of swiftness as storm winds beat against his flight. Grey clouds loomed over head as he passed into the realm of Dain Ironfoot; passing overhead of a shouting dwarf he landed on the window sill of Dain's home. He rapped his beak against the glass insensately trying to get the attention of the Lord, who he could see in broad firelight speaking to one of his sons.

"For the love of the Great Mother!" Cairn shouted. He pecked the glass until it cracked a bit, and then he wiggled his beak inside pushing aside shattered glass. He flew in and landed on Dain's shoulder giving him a scolding squawk in the ar for good measure.

"Oi, Cairn! What brings you here?" Dain boomed.

"Easterlings lie at your gate, Lord Ironfoot." Cairn explained, panting. Confusion passed in Dain's face like the raven had five heads. "They are three hours' ride to your gates, and they come bearing great weapons."

"Why am I getting informed of this _now?!"_ Dain shouted standing from his seat. Cairn hovered in place, worry tinting his amber eyes. Dain's fiery gaze fell on the raven lord, and suddenly Cairn was reminded that Dain was indeed one of the many lines of Durin. This fire was identical to the one King Oakenshield obtained when rage smothered all other emotions. "Speak, Raven!"

Cairn cleared his throat. "Queen Coruwen foresaw this event, but at a later date… She didn't know they would be here in a matter of hours." Cairn squeaked. Dain growled in his throat, and Cairn let out a pathetic squeak. "They are planning on attacking Erebor as well, but how fast; I do not know."

"Damn that Elf, but what can I do?" Dain grumbled. "Fine, fly back and tell your king and queen that the Iron Hills is currently fighting against the Easterlings."

Cairn cleared his throat again. "My duty as Raven Lord is to stay until the battle has been finished… People could use me as a spy, you know."

Dain nodded shortly. "Fine, do what you want. I have a battle to attend to."

The raven bowed his head, silently praying that no one back home would be terribly injured. He could only hope now… That little fragment of an emotion that Men clung to was all he had now.

* * *

_A/N: I'm terribly sorry if this story is really slow right now; it will pick up eventually. _

**_Are you guys liking it? Do you have any ideas on what should come after the battle? What shenanigans do you want to see? Let me know, please! _**

**_Please review. _**


	12. Chapter 12

**_The Plight of the East_**

* * *

Erebor has been thrown into a battle ready crazy overnight. One could hear the sounds of shouts rising from within as warriors readied themselves for the sounds of heavy armor and Rhunic speech roared across the hills like thunder across a plain. This startled the people of Dale and Esgaroth into a fear induced panic as they heard the chant of Easterlings. Bard and Iris had done their best of filing their people out of the cities to Erebor where they knew they would be safest. Bard had finished filing the last of the people inside when a loud, sonorous horn rattled the air sending fear up his spine. His mind went to Coruwen and Thorin, believing that they would know what was going on.

Bard climbed a series of steps to the Hall of Thror, where he found the queen alone with her eldest nephew. Coruwen cast him a soft smile over her shoulder as he came walking up to her. The queen of Erebor wore a dress of moss green with silver metal covering her neck, hips, and forearms. At her hip rested a quiver full of soft, blue feathered arrows and a yew wood bow was slung on her shoulder. Her fingers worked her hair into braids starting at her temples that became entwined with one on the back of her head.

Beside her stood Fili with his twin swords resting on either side of his hips. His gloved hands hovered over the pommels of each, and he was dressed in armor of dark red and tarnished silver, and it was scaled like that of a dragon. Bard found it amusing that he appeared like a dwarf version of Freya in the color of his armor. Fili tightened the straps of his gauntlets impatiently, which caused Coruwen to touch his shoulder with her fingertips. The dwarf looked up at her and gave her a bow of his head.

Coruwen glanced up at Bard, who wore a fierce mask in place of the normal happy expression he wore. Bard was restraining himself from barking at everyone to why he was not informed about the Easterlings. He dug his gloved fingers into the hilt of his blade that was concealed by the dark cloak he wore. He heard the footsteps and clanking of metal in the door nearest the exit of the great hall.

In the doorway, stood Thorin Oakenshield dressed in scaled armor but the scales were dark grey and ebony with the crest of Durin upon the front. Orcrist was strapped to his back and behind him was Kili in the dress of an archer, but still had the crest of his family prominent on his chest. Bard saw something gleaming in Kili's arms; something silver.

"Bard," Thorin greeted with a bow of his head. "I am sorry for not telling you about this sooner."

"Keeps me on my toes," Bard replied with a humorless laugh. "How did you not know that the Easterlings would be overnight?"

"Cairn never returned," The king stated flatly. Bard saw the mask of a ruler pass over the king's stern features, and Bard felt his blood turn cold. Looking upon Thorin, Bard saw the ferocity of the dwarves mingled with their immense pride far larger than any other creature in this world. Thorin Oakenshield was the epitome of a dwarf king. "In fact, my wife assumes that Dain in still fighting the Easterling forces in the Iron Hills. Had they been defeated, Dain would have hunted them like a pack of wolves."

"Understandable," Bard agreed. He silently unsheathed his sword as his anxiety brooded. "The Men of Dale will follow your order, King under the Mountain."

"That will not be necessary," Coruwen interjected. Bard and Thorin looked at the elf, whose face was passive with her blue eyes darkened with a strange ferocity that was never apparent in elves. "You are the Lord of Dale; command your people. We will have enough to deal with when the fight comes."

"Coruwen," Thorin growled.

Coruwen shot him a stern glare and he took a figurative step back. Bard had seen Iris do this before, this strange behavior made no sense to him. It was as if a switch had been pulled and then this side of women came forward. Her glare subsided as she met Bard's eyes.

"Go and be with your people, Descendant of Girion," Coruwen said in a gentle voice. "They will need you before their loved ones venture out."

"Lady Queen, I would gladly do so, but do you not think that we should be planning how to attack the Easterlings?" He questioned. Kili and Fili gave him nervous glances as the elf walked up to him. He could see the fierceness in her eyes that seemed to make him feel small. The intelligence and ethereal nature of the elves was prominent in the queen.

"The Easterlings have a simple strategy when it comes to being taken down, Lord of Dale. Do what I say, and seek out your wife. She is nervous," Coruwen said sternly.

Bard sighed and left the Hall of Thror in search of Iris. He slinked his way through the crowded levels in search of his wife, passing dwarves dressed in heavy armor that appeared like walking siege towers. He found a group of women hovering around a voice. He voice was nervous and quivering from anxiety. Iris.

Iris held onto the folds of her dress tightly as the women prodded her for answers about things beyond personal boundaries. She found Bard's eyes through the shoulders of the women, and gave him a silent plea for help. The Lord cleared his throat forcing the women to bow before him.

"I hate to steal my wife from you, my ladies, but I require her insight," Bard said, withholding a playful smirk. He offered Iris his hand, which she took gladly and clung to his side. She seemed nervous again. Something was indeed wrong with his Iris. When he led her to a walkway high above the bustling people, Iris threw her arms around him. "What's wrong?"

"Please, come back," Iris whispered into his shoulder. Bard held her close to him, leaning his head against her own and nestling his face into her dark hair. The scent of grass and lilies came to his senses as he shut his eyes. She trembled in his grip and he picked her up into his arms making her squeak in astonishment. "Bard, what are you doing?" Her hazel eyes were curious as she looked into his dark brown ones.

"I swear, I will return to you." He righted her back onto the floor and took her dainty hands. He kissed each of her fingers making her giggle. Her laugh lightened his heart enough to make him smile, "My sweet Iris."

Iris cast her gaze down with a bit of pink dusting her cheeks. She looked up at him with a strange, loving look in her eyes. She slipped her hands free of his, and wrung them. "Bard, there is something I need to tell you…. I can't seem to put it in words, but promise me that you will not jump away."

"Why would I do that?"

"I know you a little too well, that's all," She took one of his hands, pressing it against her stomach. Confusion hit him and he mentally thought Iris was trying to infer that she was fat or something. Then he thought best not to voice that. Her hazel eyes were bright with love, which confused him. He smiled nervously. "You do not understand this at all, do you?"

"Forgive me, dear, but I do not."

Iris removed his hand and pressed it to her hip. "Bard, I am with child."

"Oh!" He blinked in shock, and then his brow furrowed. "Oh… Is… Is it mine?"

Iris gave him a scolding look. "Of course, idiot! I have slept with no other man!"

Bard laughed and picked up Iris, spinning her around so much that she laughed with him. He was happy, no there wasn't a describable word for his happiness right now. He placed a firm kiss on Iris' lips and then hugged her close to him. "Iris, that is wonderful." He whispered in her ear. She pushed on him, looking up into his eyes.

"Promise me you will come back? For me and little one?" Iris asked in a quiet voice.

Bard smiled and kissed her lightly, "Of course, dearest. It is not every day one becomes a father."

Iris' hand slipped free of his and she disappeared back into the high levels of Erebor. With the departing of his love, Bard felt all of his happiness go with her; if he were to pass he would know that his line would be safe… But he would not cloud his mind with dark thoughts, even if the Easterlings sat outside his gates.

The lord returned to Coruwen and Thorin to find them standing above the gate watching the swarming masses of Easterlings in the valley below. They had shields of rectangular metal depicting great stars, mighty halberds that stood tall like spires with wisps of red and black cloth swimming in the wind's howl. Their chants were in a strange language, but as one would cry above the others, they would respond in a deep baritone cry.

"Plan?" Bard inquired as he came to stand beside Thorin. The king started to speak, but his queen cut him off.

"Besides charging in, husband," Coruwen interjected with a playful smirk. Bard held back a smile as the queen nudged her king. Thorin narrowed his eyes at her before returning his gaze back to the Easterling force.

"Very funny, love." Thorin deadpanned. The elf's smirk faded as she followed her husband's gaze. "Bard, your men will be of most use as archers, no?"

"Yes," the lord replied.

"Good," Thorin's gaze flicked across the moving banners and spears. "Dwalin and Balin told me they would keep an eye on the left and right flanks of our army. I will be taking the middle. Coruwen, I want you to be with the boys."

Bard turned on his heel, catching sight of his second in command. "Skal!" He yelled. The Second in commands attention flicked up to his lord's instantly. "_Heita hverr ein!" _

Skal dipped his head to Bard before running off into the depths of Erebor. He turned his attention back to the people behind him, and saw the queen wore a cloak over her shoulder with the hood covering her head. The cloak was pitch black with silver scales covering her shoulders, and Bard saw in her hand was her bow.

"Let us remind them why Erebor was never taken by any mortal race," Thorin said darkly as he descended the steps with Coruwen behind him. Bard reminded himself that the son of Thrain had fought awfully hard for his kingdom; thus giving him every right to be wrathful towards any attackers. His heart dropped out of his chest when the mighty gates of Erebor opened revealing a vast region covered in the black and red garments of the Easterlings. He swore to Iris he would return, and return to her, he would.

* * *

Coruwen heard the sounds of clanking armor behind her as she walked up to a plateau where she could see the dwarves, Lake-men, and Easterlings clash. She had heard war before, but never seen it. From here, she could see Thorin clearing as he fought alongside Dwalin and Balin, who flanked him like moving walls. Easterlings spied her and wheeled around to face the elf, making her stiffen under their gaze. Her hand snapped backward to the quiver pulling one arrow loose, and it twanged letting loose the arrow into the jugular of an Easterling halberdier.

"Fili, to your left," Kili ordered as he shot an archer from his place beside Coruwen. Adrenaline was beating in Coruwen's veins as she fired arrows into the necks of the Easterlings that ran at her like lemmings to water. Each dropped a few feet before their comrades, but as Coruwen let loose an arrow to stop an Easterling swordsman, her arm attempted to give away.

The muscles felt stretched, causing pain to lance down her arm. She withheld a whimper of pain managing to shoot the Easterling just as his blade graced Fili and her. Her nephew shot her worried glance over his shoulder as she dug his blades into the side of a halberdier.

Coruwen felt her hand and arm lock up as she tried to stop a charging halberdier. The memory of the Goblin King ripping the flesh from her arm made her cringe as the Easterling raised his spear. She had no time to stop him…

"Coruwen!" The boys shouted. Kili loosed an arrow into the Easterling's shin, and he tripped up a bit, but he still ran at the elleth. Fili tore away from his fight, a scimitar cutting his side as he ran at the spearman. The twin blades dug into the back of Easterling halberdier and dragged down; cutting the man's back open revealing stretched muscle and blood poured onto the ground like rain. Kili let an arrow loose on his brother's enemy as it ran at him. Fili stood and kicked the Easterling's helmet giving it large indentation.

"What in Durin's name happened?" Kili inquired as he flexed his bow hand.

"My arm is locked up," Coruwen said as she rubbed her upper arm. Fili walked up to her side and took her hand in his. He pressed his thumb into her palm feeling the muscles slowly releasing themselves.

"You have excellent timing, Auntie," Fili muttered low. Coruwen heard Thorin in that statement which made her smile. Slowly, her arm released its tight hold as Fili fixed her hand. 'There, that should hold it for a while. Let Kili and I handle the closer enemies. You deal with the ones we can't see or hit."

"Ai, go." Coruwen replied shooing him onward. She picked up the arrows of the archer Kili had shot and saw they were formed of a similar wood to that of her own people, but their shafts were formed of a crude steel to depict saw teeth. The boys hovered to far from her as they wound their way down the mountain. Coruwen saw the Easterling force departing, filing her with confidence.

She heard someone shout her name forcing her gaze up to Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin. An Easterling general whirled twin scimitars in a deadly dance almost gracing Thorin's neck and nicking Balin's armor. Thorin raised Orcrist to knock the Easterling off balance, but he swung low near Thorin's side and cutting it deeply. Coruwen's heart stopped in her chest as Thorin fell to the ground with his hand still gripping Orcrist. Fili and Kili were immediately running towards thir uncle, but Coruwen raised her bow aiming for the Easterling's eyes. Wrath boiled in her veins as the general brought both blades close to Thorin's neck in an X formation as if he were about to behead him.

Coruwen loosed the arrow into the general's eye and he tumbled backward and she stormed forward as the Easterling scrambled away like a frightened child. She had purposely made sure that the arrow was low enough in his eye that it would not kill him. She placed her boot on the general's chest and kicked downward so hard that he yelped in pain. The Easterling's eyes were clouded by terror as he looked upon the queen.

"I will kill you if you touch him," Coruwen hissed taking a hold of the arrow's feathers and giving it a shake. The general howled in pain. "Hear me! If you wish to take his life, then you will have to go through me."

The general spat words in the Rhunic tongue at her and squirmed a bit. She caught the words "kill" and "Hand" in his sentence. However, the elleth's face was blank. In a chopped sentence, the Easterling growled, "So be it."

The General raised a jagged knife to her knee, but Kili shot an arrow into his palm which warranted him to scowl at the young heir. The jagged knife clattered to the ground as the general clenched his teeth in pain. Coruwen stepped off of his chest so he may remove the arrow from his palm. He struggled on the arrow, but bit back a howl as the arrow left a hole in his hand. He scrambled to his feet leaving behind his jagged knife, but not his blades.

Coruwen felt her heart stop when she heard Orcrist clatter to the ground. She whirled around to see Thorin kneeling on one knee with one hand clutching his side where the general had cut him. She kneeled before him with her hands helping put pressure on the cut. Her feet slid around on the pooled blood as she brought his gaze up to hers. Fear was taunting her heart, but she concealed it trying to stay calm.

Her beloved sighed putting his forehead on her arm. "May be I am too old for this," He whispered.

"Nonsense, you were fine. The Easterling bastard just cheated," Coruwen replied softly. In the air split the great, baritone horn of the Easterlings and the ground shook. She heard Dwalin curse under his breath. "What in the world?"

She glanced over her shoulder to see a line of reformed Easterlings rattling their spears and blades against their great shields. Behind them marched mighty, broad shouldered creatures pulling a massive catapult armed with the skulls and bones of enemies. The creatures were flanked by Easterling cavalry each armed to the teeth with ebony blades and vermillion armor. The horses bore metal chains covered in skulls and bones with their hooves beating the air.

"Oh come on!" Kili shouted in disbelief. "Not fair!"

"Damn it all," Coruwen murmured angrily. The horn sounded again signaling a thunderous boom to beat the air. A great boulder was hurtled into the air and crashed into Erebor's side and from it erupted green fire that slid down the side like sludge. "Green fire?"

"Some sort of Rhunic creation," Thorin snarled as he took a sharp inhalation of breath. Coruwen's mind drifted in an odd direction. "Whatever it is, I do not like it." He attempted to move, but the cut on his side made him grit his teeth. Coruwen took his face with one hand, forcing his gaze to meet hers. "Do not do anything idiotic, I beg of you."

"Do you want to die?" She said loudly her nerves becoming frayed.

"No," He snapped. "But what else can we do!"

Coruwen sighed shortly. "Thorin, desperation calls forth many unwanted things; even those that of idiotic nature."

"Oh do not start with your elven advice!"

"Why are you being stubborn now?! That _thing_ is going to kill us if we do not do something about it!"

"Then what do you suppose we do, elf?"

Coruwen's heart jolted in her chest at that name. The darkness in Thorin's eyes made her want to slink away to hide. That name was painful to hear from him. The bitterness of his tone mingled with the why he growled lout that title made her want to leave. She pulled her hand away from his side, feeling bitterness stab her heart. What could they do? Everyone was split. She stood, looking at the creatures pulling the catapult.

_Manwë help me…_

She raised her eyes to the River Running, spying the Easterlings climbing its currents to enter her home. Indecisiveness dug its nails into her mind, raking its rancid claws and biting into her with its infection ridden mouth. She worried her bottom lip, taking her shallow breaths.

"Lady Queen!" Grimbolt's voice called. The old guard was dodging whistling arrows by raising his shield as he ran towards her. He skidded beside her, watching her for an answer. "My Lady, the Easterlings they-,"

"We know, Old Guard," Balin interjected. Emerald fire leapt to life once more, covering Erebor in a sheath of flames. The ash and smoke rose into the air, making it hard for Coruwen to breathe calmly as she stood overlooking the Easterlings. "Coruwen, lass, are you going to be all right?"

"_Please Manwë, hear me. Send us a savior, I beg of you," _Coruwen prayed as wits drained completely. "Leave me."

"What?" The dwarves asked in shock. "No!"

"It was not a suggestion," Coruwen growled as her gaze landed on Thorin, who was giving her a slightly pained look. "It was an order. I swore to protect Erebor, and protect her I shall. Take Thorin somewhere safe and stitch up his wound."

"Coruwen, damn it!" Thorin snarled as he tried to walk up to her. Using Orcrist, he limped towards her so he could get close to her. A knife was thrown with deadly precision near him causing him to halt in his stride. "What are you doing?"

"Protecting you," She answered. "I fought to keep you here, Thorin. I have all of this time to prove myself to you. If the Easterlings think they can take my home and family away then they do not understand what I have been through."

"You do not have to do this!" He saw her turn, giving him a soft smile. He was not going to let her throw her life away so easily. Not after he, too, had fought for her. "Let us help you!"

"No, you are hurt and the boys are next in line," She replied shortly.

"Why the hell are you throwing your life away?!" Anger roared to life in him at the wrong time, but he knew he was not going to get through to her any other way. He loved her, and he wasn't going to let her get away by throwing her life aside for him. She had all ready done enough for him. "Do you think I do not care? DO you think that the boys and I will simply let you leave?"

"I-," Coruwen turned her attention backward towards the West. A horn sounded that was not the baritone horn of the Easterlings. He knew that horn all too well. The anger in his blood died down as Coruwen turned and took his arm. "I am a fool," She whispered in his ear. "I do not know what I was thinking."

"War makes fools of us all." Balin stated. "Best fix him quickly, my queen."

Coruwen dipped her head to Balin and let out a shrill whistle that made Thorin jump in his skin. He kneeled down to the ground as the wound on his side grew in intensity. It was like being burned by a torch. He clenched his jaw as a whinny was heard. Faenaur came trotting up to Coruwen allowing her to dig around in his saddlebags for something. She ran back to his side and peeled the bloodied armor away from his side.

The medicine she applied to the wound was a soothing pain, but it made the skin knit together quickly. It was like watching water pass over someone's palm. He met her eyes, catching signs of pain in her blue eyes. She placed a thin strip of gauze over the wound and then fixed his armor. He stood, no longer feeling the wound's insidious bite.

"Let us be on our way," Grimbolt said quickly. "My lady, who has come to our aid?"

Coruwen mounted Faenaur with her cloak draping over the sides of Faenaur as if his back was made of pitch black fur. Coruwen flipped back her hood with a prideful smile on her lips. Such a smile was almost enough to boost the king's confidence.

"An ally of ours," Coruwen stated knowingly.

The group set off, reforming the scrambled army of Erebor into a one long line of warriors. The Easterlings let out a chant as they marched forward with their cavalry units galloping in front with an unmatched speed. Faenaur halted upon a jutting rock with Thorin and the company beside the horse. One might've wondered how all of the company had gotten split and then reformed, but all one can assume was that it was luck.

"Are we going to do anything about those horses?" Kili asked looking up at his aunt.

"Watch and wait, little wolf," Coruwen soothed, patting his head.

The cavalry still galloped forward like a rain across the plain with their hooves grating against the ears of Lake-men who had reassembled with the King and Queen of Erebor. Faenaur became anxious with his hoof raking the ground. Kili became nervous as the Easterling archers raised their bows to fire their saw like arrows.

"Uh, Coruwen?" Fili asked.

The cavalry of the East galloped on and on until the soft whistle of arrows hissed past the ears of the army of Erebor, startling many. The sound of marching feet was heard behind them. Many turned their heads to see the mountain's walls come alive with the golden helms of elf with their gleaming shields of the same gold material. A second volley was sent past them into the breasts of horses, which tumbled to the ground with their riders being killed in the process.

Through the walls of the mountain came Thranduil dressed in armor of silver and dark green. His silver hair braided back into the braids of war and his green eyes fierce. He rode a white horse dressed with banners on its reins depicting the insignia of Greenwood's large Oak tree. He raised his hand and the archers above lowered their bows in mechanical unison.

"Your timing is well placed, Thranduil King," Coruwen teased as the white horse sauntering up to the queen. The Elvenking smiled wryly and placed his hand on his heart. She glanced down to see Thorin slightly narrowing his eyes at the ellon. She leaned down, tapping her husband on the shoulder to calm him.

"I will not be having that elf fight beside me," Thorin growled to her. Coruwen could not believe Thorin sometimes. Thranduil blinked in shock like a rabbit caught off guard with his head tilting to the side. "It is out of the question, Coruwen."

"Leave it alone, Thorin. If anything-," She was cut off by the Elvenking.

"If anything, this is payment for us abandoning you when Smaug attacked." Thranduil stated calmly. Thorin raised both eyebrows, looking at the king like he had lost his mind. "I believe that will suffice as payment, King under the Mountain. After all, your people do seem to be a in a bit of a bind."

"Fine," Thorin replied. Coruwen smiled down at him, but he glared at the Elvenking. "The only reason I did not order you to be killed was because I know my queen enjoys your presence."

"Completely understandable," Thranduil laughed. "Now, let me take care of your little problem." The king raised his hand, signaling the archers to prepare to fire. Bows were raised to the sky with elegant arrows notched within as the archers awaited their king's orders. As the Easterlings marched forward, Thranduil snapped his hand back down when they closed it and lines of Easterlings fell before the accuracy of the elves.

"I will be up here with the archers," Coruwen said looking down at Thorin. He bowed her head to him with one hand clasping Orcrist free of its place on his back. She watched as the dwarves descended upon the Easterlings once more like water upon rock. Thranduil and his warriors joined the fray. Coruwen took a section of archers and rode towards the great catapult that was being manned by mundane orcs. They dropped one of their green fire rocks onto a gear when they saw the elves, thus destroying the catapult by self destruction.

"_Kill any strays! I do not want the Easterlings returning," _Coruwen ordered as she loosed an arrow on an Easterling general who was trying to escape. The elves bowed their heads to her as they created a circle firing arrows left and right. The whistling of arrows could still be heard in the valley along with the mourning songs of the Men of Dale. The leaders of the battle met in the middle of the Desolation of Smaug with General Himon showing them a great casket with intercut carvings upon it.

The casket was like a tabernacle in design depicting a great cat eye leafed in gold and the box itself was formed of a white aspen wood with Easterling speech burned into the area around the gold eye. Coruwen found it strange to see, for something about the box was vile. Thranduil had the same look in his eyes as they observed the box. Bard told them he would leave it outside of his city for further observation whilst Thranduil stayed with the King and Queen.

They would observe this box once the dead had been taken care of; for there so many to be dealt with, and so little time.

* * *

Translation Key:

Heita Hverr Ein: Call every one

**_Please Review _**


	13. Chapter 13

_**The Black Easterling**_

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The days that passed were grim to say the very least. Luckily, Esgaroth and Dale had minor damages to their walls with their people not damaged aside from those who were taken by the Easterlings in battle. The dead of the allies were taken by their loved ones to massive pyre far from Erebor and the twin cities, but the Easterlings were taken care of by carrions overhead, which had been pining for days on end for the rotten flesh. However, today something, or for a better description, someone came to the gates of Erebor seeking entrance.

Coruwen pressed a hand to her husband's side as she removed the bandages to stitch up the wound. What stitches had been put in became loosened because of Thorin's inability to listen to her. Fili had been rather good, listening to his aunt and not moving from his spot in the sitting room. Thorin glanced down at Coruwen as she tightened the loose stitches, and then replaced different ones that could not manually fixed.

"Coruwen, for the last time, I am fine," Thorin assured her. Her gaze did not rise, but she pulled on a stitch making him wince. She had been rather cross with him since their small dispute on the battlefield. In fact, she had been rather frightening to say the least. Her glares were dark and her words fierce.

"You are not to move from this spot unless someone goes with you, understand? I do not wish to fix these for a second time," Coruwen ordered tying the end of the stitches. He watched her leave his side to check on Kili's injured arm. An Easterling halberdier had stuck his spear into the dwarf's arm all the way through like a massive arrow, thus rendering the archer's arm useless. Dís had been fretting over the matter of her sons being injured, but Coruwen had found something to occupy the princess' fretting.

"I bet that would please you," Thorin muttered leaning into the back of his chair. He heard a snicker followed by a pillow hitting him in the face. Coruwen had moved from Kili to Fili, both of whom were smiling down at their aunt.

"Now Uncle," Fili scolded. "Auntie is just being considerate." Kili scoffed, and Fili tugged on his hair making him yelp. Thorin shook his head at the boys, finding it hard to believe they honestly thought Coruwen was being considerate. She was silently torturing him with her cold behavior along with her ability to cause him pain right now. Typically, he would have cared… But he had people to take care of; he could not be sitting around like this.

"No, your aunt is having fun torturing me," He reiterated. The elf queen let out a huff of laughter as she passed him to set down a tray. "Considering I cannot move without her hounding me."

"I can always go find Dís," Coruwen pointed out.

"No, no need for that," The boys chimed. "Auntie, we'll keep an eye on uncle, you go check up on everything outside."

The elleth eyed her nephews curiously. She thought it over for a moment before nodding. She left the room to find Dís chasing after Sol, who was trying to enter the room. Since she had gotten taller, Sol thought she could potently take down a bear, and then sneak past a group of assassins. Dís, on the other hand, had raised two boys thus knowing all of the little tricks that little ones pulled. The princess grabbed Sol's arm, dragging her to the floor.

"Let me go!" Sol yelled, fighting Dís' grip.

"No, you cannot go see the boys yet. They haven't healed fully," Dís reminded. Coruwen walked up to her sister in law, and placed her hand over the princess'. Sol quit her kicking and flailing to look up at the queen. "Sister, how are they?"

"Fine… Your brother now has to be put under the watch of the boys because he does not understand that his wound is quite severe. Other than that, everything is fine," Coruwen stated flatly. She patted Sol's red head, and the girl frowned. "You can go see the boys, little one. You just cannot bounce and roughhouse, understand?"

Sol's green eyes lit up as a smile crept across her face. She threw her arms around the queen's neck in a hug before running off. Dís regarded Coruwen in a mixture of shock and disbelief. Slowly, she spoke, "Very typical of my brother. He puts his people first, even if he were dying."

"I am still rather upset at him for what he said to me when the battle came. He knows I was only trying to think rationally; even if that meant I had to give up my own life for the sake of his and the boys' safety."

"It was a little irrational."

"That I agree with, but your brother… He did not seem to understand it as much as I thought he would have."

"Thorin loves you; he won't give you away to death that easily."

Coruwen sighed, running a hand through her gold hair. "Even when we are dead, Thorin will still be my dragon."

Dís chuckled at the nickname. "Careful now, don't want him hearing that."

"I've called him that before. All he does is just growl, which is not threat to me." Coruwen started towards the Hall of Thror. "Want to come with me while I check up on everyone?"

Dís smiled, following her sister up the stairs to the main hall where they found Balin, Dwalin, and Gloín all awaiting them. The three joined the women as they entered the main hall to hear a booming, gruff voice. There, standing at the base of the throne was Dain Ironfoot with Cairn resting on his shoulder.

"Dain!" Dís yelped. Dain turned his head with a smile creasing his face. As of late, Dain was starting to turn white from age; though age did not taint the warrior fire in his eyes nor his gruff attitude. "W-What are you-?"

"Doing here? Well, I _was_ going to help the lot of you with the Easterling hamsters, but you had a bit of aid towards the end, no?" Dain replied with happiness mingling with his voice. Coruwen found it strange; Dain was typically stern and fierce. Now, he was reformed by battle to a happy state. When most would be grieved, Dain was happy. The Lord stopped before Coruwen, eyeing her. "You miscalculated the Easterlings on my art, just so we're clear."

"And that is simply a miscount of foresight, my lord. And whatever casualties you obtained, I apologize." Coruwen said with a bow of her head.

"What are you being sorry for?! That rush was what I needed! Hell, had those buggers not come sooner I might have started exiling people for kicks," Dain boomed. Coruwen and Dís shared a rather confused look between them. This dwarf was not Dain Ironfoot at _all. _Coruwen was pretty sure that it was some disguise or some sort of evil trickery. "Anyway, where is my cousin? I need to chew him out for getting hurt."

"Down the stairs, to the right," Dís said.

As Dain descended the stairs, he grumbled about stairs being a stupid idea to put in a mountain. After he was gone, Coruwen looked at Dís curiously. Balin chuckled while Dwalin and Gloín stared at the lord in confusion.

"What just happened?" Gloín whispered.

"I believe Dain was _happy_," Dwalin replied. "I am slightly frightened."

"Then that makes two of us," Coruwen said quietly. She whirled around and entered the main hall to find the golden tabernacle sitting in the middle with light glittering off of the intercut designs. In her mind's eye, Coruwen saw a looming shadow hanging over its head. She did not want this thing in her home. "I thought Bard was taking it home with him."

"Was," Balin reminded walking beside his queen. The elf let out a groan, shaking her head. "Iris was rather adamant that it be sent here. The Elvenking has been rather cautious around it, along with any of the elf-host."

"I can see why," Coruwen whispered low enough for Balin to hear. "This tabernacle holds a great evil."

"It is a box, milady," Balin replied. "I highly doubt it can eat anyone."

Coruwen swatted the advisor's arm, and he chuckled. "Balin, listen to me; this _thing_ needs to go somewhere else."

Dwalin walked past the two, up to the box, and tapped it with his boot. Coruwen winced, awaiting damage to be inflicted upon the warrior. Nothing happened. Nothing moved, nothing so much as stirred. Gloín was the next to walk up to the box, running his hands across the top.

_Click._

"What the-?" Gloín asked as he stumbled backwards. His dark eyes narrowed at the box, and he approached it a second time. Dwalin bumped the box a second time with his boot, forcing the lid of the box to slide over. "Hey, that did something."

"Stop touching the box," Coruwen ordered. Something about it seemed foul. The gold was of similar darkness to that of the gold formed by the old Dwarven rings forged by Annatar. The way the gold caught the light, shimmering like a great mirror. The animals and Rhunic language pressed into the tabernacle seemed all too realistic. Maybe it was her elven nature that wanted them to stop, or her love of the race. Whatever the cause was, she did not want the dwarves touching the tabernacle.

"Why?"

Coruwen pinched the space between her eyes, feeling a bit stretched. Typical question: Why can I not touch the gold box? She strode forward, placing a hand on the box's lid and from within something writhed like a serpent. "Something is telling me that this tabernacle is not what we think it is."

Dís walked up to Coruwen, tugging on the queen's hand. "Coruwen is right, gentlemen. Do not touch this box unless someone higher up orders it so," She said. Dís felt Coruwen's hands rest on her shoulders as she walked away. "If we catch you touching the box, there will be hell to pay."

"Yes, Lady Dís," Gloín muttered like a scolded child. Dwalin huffed, walking out of the room to another section of Erebor.

Coruwen walked up to the steps of the throne and sat before it with her hands covering her face. Never before had she felt so internally sick. When her hand had touched the tabernacle, something played with her mind in a perverted way. The external force had gone through her mind causing her to freeze. The feeling was similar to that of a spider walking its way across your skin with its slow, cat like movements. Coruwen's stomach twisted into knots, forcing her curl her knees close to her bowed head.

"Coruwen, what is the matter?" Dís inquired walking up to her side. The princess placed a hand on the queen's back, and she curled tighter. "Coruwen?"

"Dís, something is wrong," Coruwen murmured as her mind's eye blurred. "Something is very wrong with that tabernacle."

"What do I need to do?"

"Find Thranduil, and bring him to me…"

Dís didn't question why the elleth needed the Elvenking, but she left the main hall in search of him. She climbed various staircases in her search, but to no avail. She found several elven healers, but no Elvenking. She bumped into one of his generals, who glared down at her when she asked where the king was. Dís hated elves more than her brother right now, for all of them glared down at her with a look of contempt or great disdain. When she found a female healer with red hair, she asked where Thranduil might be.

"He told me that he was going to visit the King under the Mountain." The red head replied. "Is something the matter?"

Dís glanced over her shoulder as she was about to leave. "Uh, important matter," Dís said quickly as she darted off. She could hear the voices of her sons, brother, cousin and the Elvenking from within her brother's room. She slid her hand into the crack, prying the door open and heard her sons hit the ground.

"Dís," Dain said in mild shock, standing to his full height. She cast a look at Thorin, who was staring at her with narrowed eyes. When her brother caught her look, he motioned for Dain to sit. Begrudgingly, Dain sat back in his chair.

"Thranduil, The queen needs you for a moment," Dís stated, glancing at the elf king. Thranduil bowed his head and departed the room with a swift gait. Over the side of the low table, Dís saw Fili's blonde head poke up as he eyed her. "Boys, get up for goodness sake."

"Kili, let me go," Fili grumbled. Her older son managed to wriggle free of Kili's grip and sit back on the couch. Kili leaned his head against his brother's leg, watching his mother intently. "Amad, what happened?"

"Coruwen is having a bad reaction about the tabernacle we received from the Easterlings." Dís replied. Dain let out a hum, and Thorin sighed with one hand resting over his eyes. "She touched it once and became ungodly white as if she was sick."

"Bloody elves," Dain grumbled. Dís watched her brother glare up at the lord darkly, and her own heart stopped. She knew that dark glare; whether or not Dain did was debatable. "However, the elf queen has shown her quality to me through the saving of my kin."

"Do we even know what is in the tabernacle?" Fili asked, putting a hand on Kili's head. Dís could see from her younger son's expression that he was only putting up with his brother's antics because she and Dain were in the room.

"No, all Coruwen said was that there was a shadow above it," She answered.

"She said that a few days before the Easterlings attacked," Thorin interjected, drawing her attention over to him. "She said that the Easterlings had a great shadow over them. That tabernacle could be the shadow. Not much scares Coruwen to the point of terror, but that _box_ does."

"What do we do with it then?"

Physically, Dís saw her brother tense up at the question. What could they do against something with that much power in it? It was unsettling to know that Coruwen was unnerved by the tabernacle's presence alone. She had heard the quiver in the queen's voice as she told her to find Thranduil. Something was very wrong…

"We need to find out what is inside of the box," Thorin said.

"I thought that was causing Coruwen's problems," Fili contradicted.

Thorin shot a sideways glance at his oldest nephew. "It could be nothing more than an artifact that is bothering her. Simple things like that have been known to bother her. Freya's necklace was a prime example of her uncertainty."

"Right, but Freya's necklace held some good in it. And from what she told me, her mind saw a double sided coin of dark and light. This seems bigger."

Dís gave her brother a firm stare, and she walked toward him. "What does your bond with her tell you, brother?" She inquired.

The king flexed his right hand where his ring rested, and it was the same hand that had received the Blessing of Freya. He had to listen to his spirit that was entwined with Coruwen's. He shut his eyes searching for her throughout the mountain. When he found her, he grabbed a hold of her spirit listening to her voice that came through.

"_What is wrong?"_ She inquired.

"_What is inside that tabernacle that is frightening you?"_ He said firmly. Concern clouded his vision of her spirit. The gold aura that typically surrounded her was flickering like a candle being tossed by a strong wind. _"Coruwen, do not give away." _

"_I'm not trying to," _She replied shortly. _"Something is forcing me away… I do not know what is in the tabernacle; all I know is that it is dark and vile. Thranduil is attempting to unlock it right now with Gloín."_

"_Can you wait until Dain and Dís get there?" _

"_Not exactly, I-," _Her voice slipped away as a black shadow wrapped itself around her presence tearing him away from her. All he could see was the outline of what looked like an Easterling General, similar to the one that had charged at him. The robes were black with a dark grey, almost black, four pronged helm stood against the bright aura of Coruwen, who was being swallowed by the black form. The form raised its head revealing beige-gold eyes that seemed to be on fire glaring at him. It hissed at him resembling a snake.

Thorin snapped back into reality, staring up at his sister. "Go, now," He ordered. "Something is here."

Dís and Dain ran from the room heading towards the Hall of Thror where the tabernacle sat. Dain entered first, trying to stop Thranduil from pushing the last lock that held the tabernacle together. Dís strode forward and knelt before Coruwen, who was glaring up at the tabernacle with a strange glint in her eyes. It was turning her blue eyes to the color of blackened sky.

"Coruwen, what-," Dís asked quietly.

"Get away from the tabernacle!" Thranduil shouted as the sound of gears clicking filled the room. The gold walls of the tabernacle peeled away revealing a wooden box with writing lit aglow by some strange force. The Elvenking had his blade drawn, pointing the tip towards the box. Several large clock gears stood at the four corners of the box, slowly unraveling themselves in a series of clicks and thumps. Everyone stood sentinel as the final gears came to a halt.

And the air became thick with tension.

Hesitantly, Coruwen stood and approached the box with the odd blankness in her eyes. Her hand reached for the black box, touching the top with gentle fingertips. Something was off… Dís could feel it in her bones at the sight of the box. As she took a step forward to stop Coruwen, mist seeped from the mouth of the box like a dragon breathes smoke. It came out in white, translucent tendrils gracing everyone's feet and climbing the pillars like ivy. It danced around the room, grasping onto anything it touched.

"Coruwen, get away from the box," Thranduil warned, swatting at a misty hand that petted his face. He didn't have time to stop the mist from circling back around to face the elf queen, who stood before the box. The mist swirled, forming a hooded figure with gauntlets formed of crude, rusted steel that curled around the elleth's throat. _"Morn Rhûn Abonnen." _ The Elvenking ran at the figure and cut the misty hand away from Coruwen's neck. She fell to the ground as the figure recoiled.

"What the hell is that?" Dain shouted.

"The Black Easterling, Khamûl. He is one of the Nazgûl," Thranduil replied, picking up the limp queen. "I thought there was something foul about that box. We need to get rid of it!"

"Oh yes, excellent idea! How in the hell are we going to get that thing out of here?!" Dain barked as he dodged tendrils of white mist that attempted to grab his ankles.

"Smash it!" Dís said as the idea came to mind. "Gloín, Dain smash the box."

"I can do that!" Dain laughed, storming towards the box. He dodged the swing of a Rhunic blade and lodged his axe's blade into the box's side thus ripping away one side. The side of Khamûl became semi corporeal with long black fabric tumbling to the floor. Dain laughed and tore away another side of the coffin with the same effect happening to Khamûl. The Nazgûl shrieked, swinging his Rhunic blade at the lord wildly. "Any day you wanna help, elf!"

Thranduil scowled, set down Coruwen, and dug his blade into the coffin and taking out a large chunk of wood. The last side remained close to both leaders, who leapt at the chance to remove the Nazgûl from the kingdom. Upon the last hinge being broken, Khamûl whirled around and swung his blade at Thranduil, who dodged to the side but could not stop the blade from hitting the person behind him.

A scream ripped through the air making Thranduil freeze.

Behind him, Khamûl's blade lay at his side dripping with blood and Coruwen's back with a long scratch marring it. The Elvenking's blood froze in his veins when he saw blood seep onto the floor from her back. The Nazgûl knocked him off balance and fled the great kingdom with great swiftness.

Coruwen lay shaking before the Elvenking as he knelt beside her, cradling the elleth in his arms. Her eyes were wide with horror and she let out another scream that made him stiffen. In the back of his mind, Thranduil felt dread creep upon him like a cat stalks a mouse. And he felt like the mouse; whoever was the cat made him unnerved.

"Naruhel!" Thranduil shouted after Coruwen's scream died away. "Moriel!" He passed his hand across Coruwen's gold hair as she clung to him tightly. Gloín and Dís were hovering nearby watching with slightly appalled expression. The Elvenking sighed, "Thank Eru, it was not a Morgul-Blade."

"I'd be more afraid of the King's wrath," Gloín stated simply. "He is going to skin you."

"And I will take whatever punishment comes at me, but your people cannot heal this wound easily," Thranduil replied firmly. The sound of a Moriel and Naruhel entering the hall made him turn his gaze up to them. Moriel gave him a stern look, and Naruhel gasped. "Quickly."

"What did you do?" Moriel growled.

"_I _did nothing," Thranduil reiterated. "Reflexes are my enemy today."

Naruhel knelt down with white dress pooling around her, and soaking up the blood that dripped from Coruwen's back. The elleth's face was pale; almost ghost like when her eyes fell on the wound. The healer's fingers leapt on and off of the marred skin. "Was it made by a Morgul-Blade?" Naruhel inquired. The Elvenking shook his head. "Moriel, we need to take her somewhere else."

"Way ahead of you," Moriel replied dragging a piece of broken wood, removed her cloak, and gestured for Coruwen to be placed on the wooden board. "Quickly, woman."

Naruhel and Thranduil dragged the queen over to the board, laying her on the board. As her back touched the wood, she whimpered in pain, fighting Thranduil's grip on her. The Elvenking held her still as Naruhel wrapped Moriel's cloak around her. The ellith carried the queen off to a secluded room, and Thranduil released a stressed laced breath. He all ready had bad ties with the King under the Mountain, but the injury of his queen could possibly end up badly. Fear gripped the Elvenking's spirit tightly.

He was going to have to tell Thorin that Coruwen was hurt… And he desired not to do that, at all. In fact, he would rather avoid such a conversation. His sister could not control him, nor could anyone else aside from Coruwen.

Thranduil had remembered what Himon had told him: _injuring the Lady Coruwen and then telling the King under the Mountain is similar to evoking the wrath of a dragon. Either you run away and are then treated as a criminal, or you face him and lose your head. _

Thranduil swallowed his fear, having made up his mind and left for Thorin's chambers. When he entered, the King gave him an incline of his head in greeting, but as the Elvenking look at Thorin he saw great concern brooding.

"Was I correct?" Thorin inquired, leaning on the heel of his hand. "Was there a creature there?"

"More like a creature you only hear stories about," Thranduil replied. The dwarf king narrowed his eyes at him. "The Black Easterling, Khamûl, was in that tabernacle."

"Khamûl? You speak of the Nazgûl lieutenant?"

"Aye, there is no other," Thranduil hesitated upon speaking again, feeling his fear for the king's wrath come forward. He had seen dwarves angry, but some were far nastier than others when it came to that particular emotion. The Line of Thror was known not only for their rightful place as King under the Mountain, but for their spiteful anger among other things. Though, The Elvenking noticed that Thorin had become less apt to explode into a rage as he would have a few years ago. "Khamûl attacked us, and he has fled. I received a few scratches, along with your wife-,"

"Where is she?" Thorin's voice became dangerously dark and venomous. The dark blue of his eyes seemed to turn into a wrathful fire whilst his hands curled around the arms of his chair. "Where is Coruwen?"

"She was injured by Khamûl's blade when I dodged an attack. A fatal mistake," The king choked out the latter, which hurt his pride to say. "Upon my part."

"_You're _reason she's injured?" Thorin stood from his chair, using Orcrist as a walking stick. He let out a string of curses at the ellon that made both, Kili and Fili's eyes grow wide with shock. Thorin stood in front of the Elvenking with eyes narrowed into a venomous glare. "I should have you hunted for sport, elf… May your people never find any comfort from the darkness of this world and the next!"

"I understand your rage, Thorin, son of Thrain. And I accept full responsibility for the damage done on your wife's behalf."

Thorin's wrath was curled around his spirit so tight that all he saw was red, and all of his words that were spoken to Thranduil were full of great disdain. Though, in the vast recesses of his heart he sought to find Coruwen. His spiritual bond to her was frayed, like the braids of a rope being slowly pulled away from the other.

"Take me to her, now." Thorin ordered. Thranduil bowed his head and left the room with him following. His side ached as he attempted to keep up with the brisk pace of the Elvenking. He was taken to a small room where he saw two elleths stitching up a large gash in Coruwen's back. Such a sight made his heart break. His wife lay on her stomach with her dress removed and blankets around her hips. The dark haired healer stood back to allow her ally to finish her work.

"We've done the best we can," Moriel stated, wiping her hands on a piece of cloth. "The cut was cut deep since it was meant for you, Elvenking. However, we have put a salve on her back that will increase the healing time of the wound at least three fold."

"Can we move her back to her chambers?" Thranduil inquired placing his hand on the pommel of his sword. Moriel glanced over her shoulder at the queen and Naruhel. She waved her hand side to side. "Even if I were to pick her up?"

"As long as you don't open the stitches back up," Moriel deadpanned. "We just finished fixing the massive amounts of blood oozing out of the cut."

"Never mind then," Thranduil replied, placing a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "Go be with her."

The three elves left the room leaving Thorin alone with Coruwen, who was unconscious. He sat at her head, stroking her hair. A piece of him crumbled away as he looked at her. She had become a part of him, and now she was dormant. He set Orcrist against the wall, leaning against the headboard.

"Why is it every time you and I become cross with the other, you end up gracing death?" Thorin whispered. His fingers twirled gold strands around, releasing them to create soft curls. As he curled certain waves, other ones would snag on his hand for attention like children's fingers. "I suppose anger makes us do idiotic things, just as love does. And I suppose I let the two mingle at a bad time." He leaned his head against the stone wall feeling the cold seep through its walls. "You said it a long time ago that my anger would be my downfall. You were right… Because my anger clouded my judgment when I was with you many years ago, and you graced death then. And here we are once more, with me looking down at you, broken. Why do you break so easily?"

In the back of his mind, he could hear her voice whispering low to him. _"I am sorry, my love." _

Thorin shut his eyes focusing on the voice. It was Coruwen's without a doubt, but it sounded broken and drowned out by pain. Why was his mind calling forth sections of her voice? _"I am yours, as you are mine…_" He knew that sentence; it was the morning after their bonding that she had whispered that to him with genuine happiness radiating from her sweet voice.

"Stop it," Thorin said aloud, opening his eyes. He rested a hand on his wife's back, avoiding her newest cut and warg scars. He rubbed her back in small circles where his hand rested, which drew a small sigh of contentment from her. The sigh made him smile slightly, but it was out of forced happiness. Sadly, he whispered, "My queen is broken."

* * *

**A/N: For those of you who have not read the books, Khamul is actually an Easterling Nazgul and the second hand of the Witch-King of Angmar. In the movies, he is the Nazgul who speaks to the farmer about "Shire..." and "Baggins..." In the first movie. **

**Khamul's tabernacle idea came from my little cousin singing pop goes the weasel. **

**Since I have neglected to do so the last few chapters... Thank you to everyone who has been sending me PM's, favoriting, following, and reading! You all are awesome! You all are my inspiration when it comes to writing, so keep doing what you guys do! **

**_Until Next time, and please review. _**


	14. Chapter 14

**_Smoke and Mirrors_**

* * *

Fili tapped his fingers on his knee in thought. He narrowed his eyes at a tapestry of the sun and moon that hung in his aunt and uncle's room; why this piece he did not know. During a few short days, Amren, Lord of Belegost, had arrived along with Rorik, Lord of Nogrod. Most of the royal family had been injured during the Battle of the Easterlings, leaving most everything to Dís and Balin, who were all ready at their wits end with Amren's vicious pining to see either Thorin or Coruwen. Last time Amren was here, Fili about skinned him for his impudence. He was going to be good, and stay as _far_ away from that man as he possibly could without hurting himself.

"You're going to lose," Kili taunted as he stared at the tapestry. Fili could not move to glare at his brother, but he silently did it. Why he engaged in Kili's silly little games made no sense to him. Out of nowhere, the door flew open with Dwalin standing in the doorway. "Hello, Mister Dwalin." Kili tore his gaze away, thus ending the game. Fili noticed that something was in Dwalin's hands. "What's that?"

"Where's your uncle, boys?" Dwalin asked urgently.

"With Coruwen," Fili replied quickly. Dwalin dipped his head to him, and left.

Kili glanced over at him. "Wanna go follow?"

Fili sighed, nodding. Kili leapt up, offering his brother a hand to help him up. His side had healed, but now it just ached. It was rather annoying when he tried to walk or move. Though it was better than being confined to a space with a broken leg, he thought. Together, the brothers ventured out of the room, following Dwalin's loud curses to a long corridor lined with various oak doors. The old warrior slipped into a door, leaving the door cracked open.

Big mistake to do with the sons of Dís following you.

Kili slinked in first and Fili after him. Coruwen was sitting on the edge of the bed in a morning dove grey dress with her hair braided back in various sections to cover the stark white bandages that covered her back. She looked up at Dwalin curiously as he held out an oblong, leather wrapped object to her. Her lean fingers hovered over the vermillion strings that held the leather loosely around the object. Her hand wrapped around the tassel and pulled it free of the leather. What was revealed shocked Fili.

A black scabbard embellished with gold markings depicting rising dragons with bronze fire leaping from their maws. A black leather wrapped hilt with touches of silver metal poking through the gaps before the pommel that depicted a jade green dragon eye.

"The Blade of the Dragon," Coruwen whispered wrapping her fingers around the hilt. The blade was pulled forth, quieter than the wind whistling through the trees revealing an ivory blade engraved Tengwar. Most likely the doing of the elves that had arrived beforehand. The ivory blade was in fact Smaug's tooth, polished and sharpened to a deadly point like a rapier. "It is light…"

"It is a dragon fang; do you think the bumbling creatures go walking around with a mouth full of iron blades?" Dwalin said as if it were obvious that it would be light. Kili snickered and Fili smiled at the cocky remark. Coruwen's melodic laugh reached their ears as she threw her head back in laughter. She hadn't laughed in a long time, at least to the point where her shoulder shook with mirth. Often, she would give bright smiles or soft giggles, but never had she truthfully laughed. Fili looked to Thorin, whose eyes brightened up as he smiled softly. The look of love was so bright in Thorin's eyes that it was like looking at another person. In one smooth motion, Coruwen handed the hilt back to Thorin, whose hand reached forward to take the blade.

The king's hand was not weighted down by the blade, nor did he even flinch when Coruwen's hand released his hand. Fili realized that Coruwen had handed the blade back to Thorin, but it was his injured side that had taken the blade. When Thorin had taken Orcrist, he flinched when the hilt lifted into the air. The blade was truly _that_ light; possibly no lighter than a horsemen's blade. The king's eyes observed the blade, and one hand rose to run his fingers across the edge.

"A beautiful blade," Thorin commented proudly, "For a beautiful queen."

Coruwen smiled shyly at the remark, and took the blade back from her king. "Tis a mighty gift, and send my thanks to the smiths, Dwalin," Coruwen said with a bow of her head.

"One more thing, you two," Dwalin interrupted. The king and queen gave him a puzzled look. Fili took in a muffled, sharp breath as Kili's elbow dug into his side. The younger brother cast a look of apology over his shoulder as Fili poked his bad arm. Now, was a terrible time to get caught snooping. But, knowing Coruwen she knew they were there; curse her elf hearing and sight. "Amren and Rorik had been demanding a meeting with one of the two of you since they arrived, something is wrong in the hills."

Coruwen sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging a bit, "Let me deal with Amren and Rorik. Thorin is still unable to move very well because of his side," She stated. A growl of objection was heard from Thorin, but Coruwen shot him a scolding look. "Though I admit I am not in the best of health currently, but Amren is no doubt driving Balin and Dís insane."

"Short trip, in fact," Dwalin replied flatly. "I am half tempted to smash his skull in."

"That would not be very proper, Dwalin, and as much as I despise Amren and his ilk; I have to honor him as a lord." She said smoothly. Her gaze was quite firm with one hand resting the bottom of the black scabbard on the floor, her hands resting naturally upon the pommel. "Believe me, if I had my way of things, I would let you beat him into a bloody pulp."

"All you need to do is ask, you know."

"If he gets out of hand, I might just take you up on that offer." The queen's gaze fell on the door. "Boys, come out."

Fili's heart sank as Kili stood. Kili helped him up and he sighed. Slightly shocked and scolding looks were sent their way. Coruwen smiled knowingly at them, walking up to them. Her slender hand rested on their heads, giving their hair a ruffle. Kili veered out of the way, smoothing down his all ready mussed hair. Fili willingly took the affectionate punishment and he tucked strands of gold back behind his ears as they fell in his eyes. He kept telling himself he loved Coruwen, he loved her, yes; somewhere deep within his heart he _loved_ her. If she had been around when they were little, they would have not gotten away with much.

"Boys," Thorin said with a tad bit of edginess coming to his voice. Kili's eyes went wide with his shoulders slumping a bit. Fili gripped his brother's shoulder to walk into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed letting out a sharp hiss of a breath. The pain in his side was growing from a dull ache to a sharp knife like pain. "You should be resting, Fili."

"Uh-huh," He hummed through his pain. "What have you been doing for pain?"

"Not moving to the best of my ability," Thorin replied simply. "Best have Coruwen take a look at your side when she comes back."

"How long is her meeting with Amren going to take, Dwalin?"

Dwalin let out a scoff, "Only Mahal knows."

Kili sat beside his brother, wrapping his good arm around him. He gritted his teeth with his hand pressing itself against his side. Damn Easterlings to hell… Had he not gotten cut, he wouldn't be in the predicament. But what could he do?

* * *

Coruwen joined Dain, who was ignoring the shouting within the confines of the meeting room. The lord let out a puff of air as they entered the room feeling tensions only being to escalate. The meeting room was a large room with long banners formed of metallic silver and white with the white stitching of Erebor's symbol upon them. Three hung on each side and parallel with its triplet. Six chairs sat before a large engraved granite table that was adorned with swooping knots that together, formed a triangular knot. Dain noticed the blade of the queen in her hand that was resting within the grip of a silver belt.

"Lady Queen," Amren started, placing his hand on the table. Amren was quite thin for a dwarf, his beard thin and colored grey from age with steely grey eyes set into a thin face. He was dressed in garbs of dark blue and bronze. "Where have you been?"

"That is none of your concern, Lord Amren," Coruwen replied in a firm voice as she came to sit at the head of the table. Dain saw that look of firmness in her eyes land on the lord, and slowly, he sank down into his chair. Dain came to sit at her right side with his axe leaning against the chair's arm. He noticed Amren did not carry a weapon, meaning he had never seen battle. Stupid, blind fool was what Dain named him.

On the other side of Amren, sat Rorik, lord of Nogrod. He was quite broad shoulder and scarred heavily from battle. Dain knew Rorik well enough to know that he was a dwarf after his own heart. He found it slightly hard to believe that Rorik and Amren were related; cousins in fact. Rorik was gifted with a beard of black with a single white strip below his bottom lip, and his eyes a light green that were bright with the flickering remains of youth's light. The Lord of Nogrod was dressed in red and white; the colors of Nogrod.

"Now, what is the reason you have been in need of me, Amren?" Coruwen stated, tapping her fingers on the stone chair's arm.

Amren cleared his throat, "You see, Lady Queen. My people have been seeing a great evil as of late. One of our elders has sensed a winged beast nearby the Grey Havens."

"It's not bats again, is it?" Dain asked, bored of Amren's fanciful thought. Winged beast? Those are impossible! Amren shot him a glare, but Rorik chuckled under his breath. "You told me once about bats, you were afraid they were going to eat you! They were merely fruit bats."

"They are not fruit bats, you idiot," Amren growled. "Should I remind you about your son's fear of the dark again?"

Dain's anger boiled in his veins. "Don't you mock my son!" He hissed as his hand curled into a fist out of anger.

"Gentlemen," Coruwen said over their anger with a hand gesturing to sit. She looked to Amren first, "Lord Amren, have any of your people seen this great beast, or heard it?"

"No, but we have heard its wings beating the mountain," Amren replied.

"Then it is not a threat should it only be passing by. It most likely is an eagle since Gwaihir hunts often in your land." Coruwen said smoothly. Her firm gaze fell on Dain, who felt small under her gaze. The look was identical to that of Thorin when he was acting as king. The aura of high order rolled off of her along with the aura of calm. She gave him a soft smile, but he could not decide if it was out of happiness or out of reprimand. Whatever the case, the smile of the queen faded as she sighed. "Now, Lord Rorik, what do you need my counsel for?"

"How did you know I needed counsel?" Rorik inquired, slightly dumbfounded. Coruwen leaned on the heel of her hand, letting out a quiet chuckle. Rorik let out a breath that became a sigh, "As my cousin speaks of darkness, as do I. A scream was heard late in the night of no earthly creature followed by a child's bloody scream. When we rushed to the aid of the child, all we found was a massive pool of blood along with a dagger hilt."

Coruwen's eyes went wide with intrigue and she leaned onto the table with knitted fingers allowing her chin to rest upon them. Dain, too, was intrigued by Rorik's claim of darkness, for it was quite horrific. Children and adolescents had been dragged off in the middle of the night by unearthly screams that struck fear into the hearts of many, and all that remained was a pool of blood along with a dagger hilt. Rorik brought forth a cloth that held one of the hilts.

Rorik slid it before the queen, who hesitantly removed the cloth to reveal a dagger hilt formed of worn cow leather and crude, dirty steel. Dain saw a strange set of runes upon the cross guard of the hilt which made her recoil.

"This blade is a Morgul-Blade, belonging to one of the Nazgûl. In fact, it most likely belongs to West man who became a wraith," Coruwen said covering the hilt once more. Dain saw pain flash in her eyes as the blade's hilt was covered again. "What you have been hearing is a wraith wishing to find his master, Sauron. The best course of action is to use fire and keep the children within an area protected by it. Wraiths fear fire along with water, and any element kept under the jurisdiction of the elves."

A shadow passed over Rorik's eyes. "My daughter, Sigyn was recently attacked by the wraiths and slain by them. I feel as if it was my fault she was taken and murdered in cold blood."

The queen bowed her head to him with a hand over her heart. "Then you have my condolences, my lord. To lose a child is most terrible."

Rorik bowed his head to Coruwen in respect. Amren rolled his eyes and Dain tapped his fingers on his axe's blade. He hoped Amren fell off of a ledge into the ocean. Or better yet onto the hilt of his axe. "We have heard news of the Easterlings attacking your city, my queen?"

"Yes, the Easterlings attacked us along with Lord Ironfoot when he was in the Iron Hills. If you desire to help us, then you have come at a bad time."

Rorik shook his head. "Though my cousin does not voice this, we know of the Black Easterling that arrived and attacked you along with the Elvenking." Coruwen nodded. "Where has the Nazgûl fled to?"

"Most likely to wherever Sauron is. I have been sensing great evil from the world for a long while, but the rising of the Nazgûl has just started recently, meaning something is wrong."

"What kind of wrong?" Amren snorted. "Elven prophecies are all false."

"By wrong, I mean war, Lord Amren. In suggestion, if you do not desire to have Lord Dain, or worse my husband, strangling you then keep your tone in check around me. I maybe an elf, but that does not mean you treat me as such." Dain mentally smiled at her reprimand. He would gladly choke Amren if she let him. "I am positive that would please him a great deal, and my husband would kill any man without a second thought should they threaten me. If neither does jump at you immediately, then I will am I clear?"

"I meant no disrespect, lady queen."

"Thank you," Coruwen let out a heavy breath. "Now, I do not when Sauron will proclaim himself known, but should he do so then war will spread across all of Middle Earth. No place will be safe, not even the city of Gondor will be safe."

"Gondor?" Dain asked in slight disbelief. "The city is a stronghold, it cannot be breached."

"Not without fire and steel, Lord Dain. I have a sinking feeling that war will come to the city when madness and a coward's meek shadow come forward."

"Is there such a man?"

"There are, but they must be poisoned from their heart outward until rationality is all but spent. The Nine are a perfect example; nine men gifted with Rings of Power doomed to die. Just as seven were made for the dwarf lords under their halls of stone."

"I remember those rings, they were vile things," Rorik muttered.

"The last dwarf ring bearer was Thorin's father, Thrain. The Grey Wizard, Gandalf, found his body in Dol Guldur tortured and malformed. He no longer took on the appearance of a dwarf lord, but of a creature whipped into submission by shadowy forces." Dain couldn't believe it; Thrain was tortured to death by cruel forces. He wondered what Thorin thought of that, or even if Coruwen had told him. Knowing her, she had and calmed his grief. Regardless, Dain's heart gave out a painful jolt at the news. The queen's eyes flicked over to him and they were slightly sympathetic. She placed her hands on the pommel of her sword, coming to stand tall before the three lords. "Now, is there anything else you need of me before I take my leave?"

"No," Rorik and Dain said.

"Lord Amren?" Coruwen inquired looking at the lord. Amren's hands tightened into fists, a signal to Rorik and Dain that something was wrong. The queen tapped her scabbard on the floor so it let out a soft crack. Amren jumped, releasing his tight grip. "What is the matter?"

"N-Nothing, Lady Queen," Amren murmured.

"Right, Lord Dain are you going to accompany me back?" She asked as she departed the hall. Dain glanced over his shoulder and then at the distraught Amren. He was torn a bit, but decided to stay with his fellow lords. He gave her a shake of his head, to which she bowed her head to.

Once out of sight, Amren collapsed to the floor in a heap causing Rorik to jump for him. Dain rose from his seat coming to kneel before the lord of Belegost. Amren twitched in short bursts as his hands curled inward so tight that the skin turned white. Rorik took Amren's arms, dragging him out of the hall.

"What just happened?" Dain asked indignantly as Rorik went in search of a healer. Dain knelt at Amren's head, pressing a hand against his forehead. The man was hot; ungodly hot as if he were struck by a fire. The Lord of the Iron Hills was dumbstruck, how could he be fine one minute and then be like _this_? "Amren, damn it, snap out of it."

"Step away from him," A voice shouted. Dain glanced up to see Dís and Oín storming up the stairs with Rorik hurrying after him. Dain did as he was ordered, allowing Oín to get a closer look at Amren, who was convulsing on the ground appearing like a fish out of water. Oín put two fingers to Amren's forehead, halting the dwarf's movement be sheer force. The healer hummed and removed his fingers. "He had a stroke, strange."

Dís eyed the healer curiously. "That is physically impossible, that is simply unheard of for our people." She said in a hurried voice. She was right; dwarves rarely had such problems and for one to have it meant something was gravely wrong. "Then again, Amren's people are of lesser descent."

"That would have nothing to do with it," Rorik snapped. Dís glanced back at Rorik, who had protective anger igniting in his green eyes. "Amren's descent has nothing to do with anything!"

"Rorik, calm down," Dain said. Rorik let out a short breath. "Oín, let me help you get Amren show where safe."

"Right, thank you, Dain," Oín replied with a short bow of his head. He hefted Amren up, finding him very light for a lord and followed Oín to a room where they could process over Amren's condition easily. He left Rorik and Oín alone with Amren to find Coruwen once more. In his search, he heard a strange, deep bark like cough emanating from a hallway. He poked his head around the corner to see Coruwen leaning against the wall with a hand over her mouth as she shook from coughing.

"My lady?" Dain inquired walking towards her. Coruwen gasped, trying to move away to hide her hand but coughed once more. Her shoulders shook from the cough and Dain reached up, placing a hand on her shoulder. "What in the world is wrong?"

"Getting over," She coughed. "Smoke inhalation." Her voice was hoarse from coughing, and he glanced down at her hand to see blood. His eyes narrowed up at her, forcing her to look away. "Do not tell Thorin, I beg of you."

"You're lying about the smoke," Dain said accusingly.

Coruwen calmed her rapid breathing by placing a hand over her heart. Dain had never seen her so pale before. In fact, she had lost all traces of color in her skin aside from the pink in her lips. She let out a breath that sounded like a wheeze. "If you tell Thorin, he will worry."

"And he has every right! You sound like you're dying."

"This can be calmed with medicine, but swear to me that you will not tell Thorin, at all," her blue eyes locked with his. Deep within, he saw great concern and the dire need of him to not speak a word. "Dain, please. I have told no one else of this matter, and I am placing my trust in you."

The drop of tone made his blood turn cold, and he dipped his head to her. "I swear to you that I will not tell my cousin of this matter." She smiled at him. "What made this come about?"

"I can only guess that I became prominent when I inhaled smoke in the battle against the Easterlings, but elves cannot contract this disease." The words became drowned out by the bark like cough, and the elleth fought each time she drew breath. "I was suppressing it by sheer will early on, but now it has gotten worse to where I have had to drink a medicine to control it." She covered her mouth as a cough came again and upon her hand came blood. He frowned at the sight knowing that if Thorin knew, he would no longer allow her any freedom. That was the way Thorin worked as any man would. Coruwen was Thorin's jewel, just as Florence was his. If Florence was stricken by this, she would be confined to his halls until her death came. This, in reality, no woman or man would want awaiting their death. "I am in belief that it came along when I gave away my immortality."

"You did that?"

"Aye," She said proudly. "Why would I not have?"

"Just curious to why you would do such a thing. I mean, elves pride themselves with their immorality."

"I do not believe that is true. Thorin is the man I chose to love, and I know he is aging thus I gave my immortality to a necklace that he wears around his neck. It will prolong his life until I die."

"Then what?"

"Age will take him eventually after I pass away."

"So, by all rights you are mortal?" Coruwen smiled sadly at the floor as she curled her bloodied hand. Dain's heart gave out small sad twinges throughout him as she bowed her head in agreement. "Love makes fools of even the elves, eh?"

She walked out of his line of sight back to Thorin and the boys with a strange, strong gait. He would not tell anyone of what just occurred; in fact he would take it to his death if it was meant so. The queen of Thorin Oakenshield had bade him to tell no one; not even her husband, whom she loved dearly enough to give away that which her people prided themselves with. She was strong, but in a far different way than he would have guessed.

Fili wiggled beneath Kili's gentle touch as he prodded the stitched wound on his side. The door opened as Coruwen reentered and the dwarf heir's heart let out a sigh of relief. Her blue gaze fell on his current state, and she looked at Kili curiously. Coruwen released her blade, setting it beside Orcrist, so she could come to his side. Fili felt her cold hands touch the stitched wound with gentle fingertips that made him wonder if she was even touching him.

"It is simply healing, Fili," Coruwen told him as she passed a hand over his gold hair. He picked up his head, placing it in her lap. Her thin fingers ran through his hair, slowly untangling his braids that he had loosely made in his half awake state that morning. He shut his eyes at the touch, but listened to her speak with Thorin about Amren and Rorik.

"Rorik has been hearing the Nazgûl of the West late in the night, according to him Sigyn was killed by them," Coruwen stated in a semi hushed voice. Fili didn't want to hear that at all, Rorik's daughter, Sigyn was quite nice when they were little, and in fact they had met upon several occasions when Belegost and Nogrod would hold meetings. In an attempt to hide from the sound, Fili buried his face into Coruwen's dress. He heard her sigh, passing her fingers through his hair again. "I threatened Amren since he refused to listen to me during the meeting."

"What did you tell him?" Thorin inquired.

"I told him that should he speak ill of me or of our family that I would either let you or Dain hunt him for sport. That or I would personally allow his blood to be the first my blade ever touched." Coruwen replied with a small huff of anger.

He heard a chuckle come from Thorin, and he internally smiled. Serves Amren right to be put in his place, stupid lord of Belegost anyhow. He felt something nudge his head, which made his eyes open. The light burned for a second when he looked up. He could see the darkness of his uncle's hair in the background that was blurry, but above him was Kili's dark brown head trying to push him out of the way. Fili wasn't going to let Kili take all of Coruwen's attention. Deep within his chest, he growled.

Coruwen giggled and placed a hand on Fili's forehead. She had both of her nephews' heads in her lap as she spoke to Thorin. Her beloved smiled softly at the sight of the boys, and he rose to come to her side. When she saw Kili's breathing deepen, she looked to Thorin, who was stroking Fili's head with the back of his hand.

"Thorin," Coruwen said quietly. The king's attention glanced up from Fili to her curiously. She was going try to speak to him in the language of her people in the hopes of the boys not hearing. _"Do you ever desire children of your own?" _

Thorin narrowed his eyes out of puzzlement, which then became overwhelmed by a grave sorrow. She slid Kili's head off of her lap so she could reach for him as he became quite solemn. He looked to Fili. _"It has passed through my mind as the ages have passed. The boys are as close as I can come. But in my heart, I wish for children I can call my own. The boys have done that and then some with ease." _

She was surprised he managed that much of her mother language. She took his face with one hand bringing his cobalt eyes to her own. They were so dark with self grief that she could not bear to look upon him in this state. Coruwen placed a soft kiss on his forehead. In that brief moment, he shut his eyes accepting the gesture as one of love. She agreed with his statement, for in her heart she desired children of her own. Fili and Kili had become adopted sons in her time with Thorin, and were even thus when they weren't bound by marriage or any ties other than friendship. She had remembered several of her friends back in Lothlórien becoming married and bound at a young age, even younger than her, and carrying children within them after being married for a few years. Her memory drifted to when she walked outside with her father one day and saw a young elfling playing with their father. The sounds of the elfling's laugh plucked several unused heartstrings.

"_Coruwen… What is wrong?"_ Thorin asked.

"_You and I agree upon the matter then," _Coruwen replied softly as she wound her fingers into Fili's gold mane of hair. She had delicately unraveled his braids thus allowing it to be free of its bindings. _"Even when I was with you on the adventure here, the boys still treated me as if I were their own aunt." _

"They love you," Thorin said simply, reverting back to the common tongue. "Just as much as I, but in a different regard." His voice was les gentle as it was earlier, it was quite firm. Her heart hurt hearing his tone change that quickly. She shut her eyes for a brief second, feeling a cough come forth from her lungs. She prayed to the Valar she would not start coughing again. Coughing hurt and tired her greatly. "I did not mean to hurt you…"

"What do you mean?"

"You are clearly unsettled by me," Thorin walked toward her taking her chin with two fingers. "What have I done to upset you?"

"You have done nothing."

"Coruwen, tell me." He took her hand in his, placing it over his heart. Within, she could feel his strong heartbeat which was so familiar to her now. The look in his eyes was pleading for her to tell him what was wrong. He trusted their spiritual bond, which surprised her. Maybe it was because he had lost her for now the second time because of a Nazgûl. "Love, speak to me…"

"I keep hearing a child's laughter in my mind. One that I heard long ago with my father, and now that I think about it. It makes my heart ache," Coruwen whispered. Thorin kissed her knuckles, and then raised her hand to his forehead. "Do not let it bother you; it was only a silly thought of mine."

"It was no mundane thought," He lowered their conjoined hands, his thumb gracing the ring upon her right hand. His eyes were still shut with his thoughts slowly piecing together. "To be graced with a child would be most gracious, but our kinds cannot mix in that way. You told me yourself. It can never happen."

The firmness returned to his voice as he walked away from her. Coruwen could sense his grief through her spirit, but could do not deny that their kinds could not mix that way. Her gaze fell on Fili, who was asleep in her lap with one hand flopped over the side of the bed's edge. She wondered what it must have been like to have these two as young children. No doubt they were mischievous and rambunctious. She twisted strands of gold blonde hair around her fingers weaving them into messy twists that would unravel as soon as she released them. She felt something nudge her hand; she looked down to see Kili's face tucked beneath her hand like a small puppy or kitten. A soft smile came to her lips as she stroked his hairline.

"Dís used to do this with them," Thorin stated from his chair. Orcrist was resting beneath his hand like a scepter while his other hand was curling around the arm of the chair. She saw his jaw tighten as he moved Orcrist around to rest on the side of his chair. His side was in pain again… "Fili has become rather attached to you as of late."

Coruwen played with strands of Fili's hair flipping them into his eyes. "He is my lion prince, just as you are my dragon king," She teased. Thorin leaned on the heel of his hand averting his gaze from her. "Thorin… I only tease."

"You've said millions of times…"

"You protect me like a dragon protects a jewel." She knit her fingers loosely together with the tips resting on Fili's shoulder. The dark blue eyes of her beloved flicked over to her. "Hence the nickname, love." She saw him roll his shoulders a bit as if he were writhing. "Come over here and rest; you are clearly causing yourself distress."

"I am fine," Thorin muttered.

"Thorin, please, you are only going to cause yourself more discomfort." He stood, slightly hissing under his breath. She reached out for his hand, which he took. She slid Fili's head off of her lap to move to the other side of Thorin. He sat where she had previously been with her sitting behind him. "You and Fili will end up causing yourselves more harm by the end of this."

"I suppose we deserve it, after getting caught by those damn Easterlings." Her fingers graced his jaw drawing his gaze backward to her face that was lined with concern. Still her touch made fire spread across his skin, though it was nowhere near as strong as it once was many years ago when Erebor was still in shambles. He had contended with Thranduil possession of her, which made him feel slightly childish when he thought about it. Her arms wrapped around his waist with her hands resting over his heart. She laid her chin on his shoulder and her gold hair brushed up against the back of his neck. He flicked his gaze over to her as best he could, meeting her blue eyes which were innocent and pleading him to rest. He placed a light kiss on her temple, which she responded with a soft kiss on his jaw.

"You need to rest," She said gently. The care and gentleness of her voice made a cold shiver race down his spine. Her heart was in her eyes as she spoke to him. "Do not worry about our people, for I will keep an eye on them."

"What of your back? Does it not hurt?" She placed a finger against his lips to shush him. He could still see the lingering love for him glowing in her eyes and he did not speak when she removed her finger. One slender hand slid from around his waist so it could take his face. Her hands were soft and smooth despite wielding a bow for years.

"It hurts, but I ignore it. I ignore it because I have people who need me," She told him. "You are in no shape to be running around for extensive periods of time. Let me handle everything for once, I beg of you."

"You did it earlier, what harm could it do?" He whispered. Thorin glanced down to see her right hand resting on his waist. Upon her right band was a single gold band with a simple diamond set into it with the engravings of a dragon's jaws opening just before the jewel. His band held the same engraving but no jewel. He felt her lips press against his cheek softly before she slinked away from him. He watched her leave the room, but he heard frantic words coming forth followed by her firm voice. He picked up the conversation between her and Lord Rorik, but what little he caught was hurried and full of panic.

"Amren… fell down and became ill," Rorik said frantically. "I cannot leave without Amren; it is out of the question."

He heard his wife's voice become gentle telling him to find Dain or Dwalin. A series of footsteps was heard behind Coruwen's voice nearing his room. The steps seemed familiar, but belonged to no dwarf. His eyes narrowed at the doorway when he caught sight of silver blonde hair and dark green. Thranduil stood in the doorway with his attention turned over his shoulder at Coruwen. His mind reverted to old ways when he hated that elf. It was his fault his wife was still injured because of Khamûl. He withheld his deep desire to stab the Elvenking in the back when Coruwen appeared.

"_The Lord of Belegost had a stroke," _Coruwen stated with her gaze falling on him. He narrowed his eyes at the statement finding it hard to believe. He shook his head, but she shut her eyes for a brief moment. _"He is currently a catatonic state." _

"_Then what of Rorik? Amren's wife will skin him if Amren is not brought back to Belegost," _Thorin replied. _"She will worry." _

"_Do not tell her right away then," _Thranduil interrupted. Thorin turned a dark gaze to the ellon. _"Glare at me if you will, King under the Mountain, but what will you tell the Lady of Belegost? You cannot expect her to let her husband's state to simply slip away." _

He bit the inside of his cheek to prevent dark, foul curses from slipping free. He desperately wanted to chew out Thranduil for such an insolent remark. Coruwen glanced at him, and then back again before she shook her head at him. The look she gave him was one of slight reprimand.

"_Thranduil, Thorin I beg you not to fight right now," _Coruwen said. Thranduil looked down at her quizzically. _"Watch your tongue when it comes to the affairs of my people, Elvenking." _

"Of course, my lady," Thranduil muttered. The elleth disappeared out of sight heading up the steps of the corridor to find her advisor and sister in law. Thranduil took a hesitant step inside the room, giving the king a grave look. "Khamûl has been sighted heading towards Dol Guldur."

"And this concerns me, why?" Thorin replied shortly as his side gave out a painful twinge. "My people are in a state of panic still because of the Easterling attack… You wish to hinder me with simple things like that?"

"Listen for one moment," Thranduil stated sharply. The edginess in his voice made Thorin growl because of the elf's attitude. "Your people cannot hide forever especially with your wife. She will be hindered should the Dark Lord rise again."

"Thranduil do not spout lies…"

"Am I _not_; I care for your wife as one of my own children. Sauron's minions would not be called forth once more if he wasn't planning on rising again. Mithrandir and Radagast both have battled against the Witch-King of Angmar and they have seen Sauron in a semi corporeal form named the Necromancer. Sauron is alive, Thorin, son of Thrain. My people have suffered because of his dark prowess, and your people are going to suffer because of the Easterlings. We need to put this stupid rivalry aside…"

Thorin looked up at the Elvenking in shock. He had held a great grudge against Thranduil, but to put it aside for the sake of their people's lives… Was an idea that never crossed his mind. The Elvenking's green eyes were stricken by a deep grief. In his heart, he felt the need to put aside their differences. It would be good for both races, for one way or another they would have to end up working together to stop the impending darkness should it arise.

"I will gladly put it aside," Thorin stated. Thranduil stared at him in shock. "What must we do?"

Thranduil bowed his head to him. "Great King under the Mountain, you are most venerable. We shall wait until the world has begun to take its first breath before we think of taking action."

"And when will that be?"

"I do not know, for the Istari surely do not. Should Sauron anger me enough, I will cast him out of my forest since he has tainted the tree of my father with his poison."

"Understandable…"

* * *

Far to the west lies a great, ruined fortress upon the Amon Lanc with a mighty winged beast sitting precariously upon the top with its long, silver scaled tail wrapped around the tip of a tower. The creature's leathery wings were folded against its back in rest with its long, neck curled in a slight u shape in slumber. Its wedge shaped head was patted by a slender, metal gloved hand. A figure, tall and broad, sat in a throne formed of pillars. It wore a long black cloak with one eye staring out into the world. The cloak was still, but the hand swept back so it could cradle the figure's head. The figure's eye was amber with flecks of fire red and it was no human eye. It was the eye of a great Maia that watched a second cloaked black figure come walking towards it.

The second figure bowed low with its black cloak pooling at its feet. "We serve you, my Lord Sauron," The figure hissed with the s sounds becoming elongated like a snake. Eight other figures stepped free of the shadows like phantoms taking corporeal form. "Command us."

The serpent with wings raised its mighty head and let out a grumble deep within its chest that sounded like gravel being crunched by horse hooves. The creature's master raised his hand pointing to the West.

"Ride," A third figure chirped.

The second figure turned on his heel and stormed out of the fortress. "Find the Ring," It hissed. "Do not stop until it is found."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you guys liked it, and I would like t hear from you guys what you think! **

**Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

_**My Trust**_

* * *

**-Year: 2946-**

* * *

Kili watched Sol bounce around Fili, wielding a small wooden dagger with deadly accuracy. She had given the brother's welts because she had rapped them so hard on the arm. Fili put up his gauntlet in defense, but it didn't stop Sol hitting his hip. Her red hair hung around her green eyes in long curly strands as they fell from her braid. The fire in her green eyes was bright as Fili feigned defeat, falling to the ground in a heap.

A few months had passed since the Lords of Belegost and Nogrod had arrived. Amren was still in his catatonic state, but Rorik had sadly taken his leave of his cousin. Dain had left in the morning back to his home in the Iron Hills, which meant Erebor was oddly quiet. No shouting, arguing, or drunken song came anymore. This was slightly disheartening to the young dwarf heir. He enjoyed Dain's presence since he made most everyone laughs, and he provided an excellent sparring partner whenever it was needed. Kili heard a tinkling laughter come to his ears that made his gaze rise.

Sol was sitting on Fili's chest with her small hands pressed against his face tugging on his beard. Kili smirked at his brother's little game of playing dead. He stood and removed Sol from Fili with her falling limp in his arms. He couldn't believe her when she pulled this on him. He gave out a huff when his arm released a burst of hot pain lancing all the way to the tips of his fingers. Through the pain, he hoisted Sol onto his shoulders. The girl wasn't so little anymore; she was thirteen now. Though Sol was still small enough for him and Fili to pick up and place on their shoulders. Gimli had showed it to them when she was first placed under the care of his mother, but Kili had found that the son of Gloín had created a monster. Sol now wanted up on anyone's shoulders whenever they were within eyesight.

"Kili, what's wrong?" Sol asked sweetly tugging on his dark hair. He mentally groaned when she played with his hair; he hated whenever someone played with his hair. He withheld his hands that twitched in desire to swat her hands. Sol shifted her weight so that she hung slightly over him. Strands of fire red hair fell in his eyes as she placed one gentle hand on his face. "Kili...?

"I'm fine, Sol. My arm is just giving me fits," Kili said. Sol squeaked in surprise as a pair of hands picked her up off of Kili's shoulders alleviating him of the weight. He stared out into the vast plain between Ered Mithrin and Erebor. The plains were green and rolling, but not in comparison of the Shire and her great hills of green. Kili missed Bilbo a great deal; he hadn't seen the hobbit since the marriage of his aunt and uncle.

"Hey, Kili," Fili said in a short, firm voice. He let out a quiet sigh before turned around to face his brother. Kili withheld a laugh as he looked upon his older brother. Gold blonde hair was mussed and tangled into a wild mane of hair. The look of annoyance was darkening Fili's eyes to a dark shade of topaz as Sol picked apart his braids. He felt the irritation radiating from his brother like a heat wave and gently Fili picked up Sol off of his shoulders. He tentatively placed Sol on the ground before his fingers pulled his hair back into a messy braid. His pent up laughter burst out in a snicker. His brother was going to skin him later, he could feel it.

"Be quiet," Fili grumbled under his breath. His brother's jaw clenched in irritation when he looked upon him. "Sol, you should probably go find Gimli."

"But Fili, Gimli is off training with Papa today," Sol stated in an obvious tone as she tucked strands of red hair behind her ears. Kili shook his head to which Sol responded with a scrunching of her nose at him. He internally smiled at the cute reaction, but he saw a cocky grin form on her face that surprised him. She skipped past him and Fili reentering Erebor.

"She is plotting something," Fili said under his breath. Kili glanced over at Fili to see his eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the doorway. He walked up to his brother, gripping his brother's shoulder with his good hand. He met Fili's blue eyes catching hints of concern in eyes. He didn't understand why they should fear Sol; she was only a little girl.

"Fili, this Sol we are talking about, correct?" Kili replied in a bit of disbelief. He felt the muscles in Fili's shoulder tighten as he let the words drop into the air. Neither brother spoke or moved in the slightest for a few moments. Slowly, Kili's gaze went upward to the halo of mist around the peak of Erebor, where he saw flecks of dark shadows pass overhead taking on the shape of birds in flight. Time had not aged the great majesty of this mountain; still it remained a shade of light grey-blue with a delicate halo of mist that's thickness varied between seasons. As of late, the mist had become thin from recent season change from summer to fall. He felt Fili shift beneath his grip and he gaze was drawn back down. "What's wrong?"

"It's about what auntie said a few months back about the creatures called the Nazgûl. If they could attack Nogrod, and get away with it not once, but five times," Fili stated with a grave tone hinting his voice. He glanced back at Kili, who became a bit taken back by the statement. "They killed Sigyn, and Mahal knows who else. Whoever the lord of the Nazgûl is sick and twisted."

"Fili, leave it alone. He won't come here," Kili said. Fili ripped away from him with a dark, protective anger in his eyes. The calm older brother he had seen so many times was gone in a matter of seconds. The sighting of the Nazgûl had bothered Fili more than Kili presumed. "I know that those creatures' presence seems frightening, but what can we do? Coruwen and Thorin both know of their power, and know of a few ways to stop them. We will be fine, and you don't need to worry yourself."

"I worry for our people!" Fili snapped.

"And you don't think that our aunt and uncle don't all ready do that?" Kili stated. He glared at his older brother knowing this dwarf was not his brother. He gripped Fili's shoulder, ignoring the screaming pain that his arm gave him. He needed to set Fili straight since all he was doing was worrying like a mother hen. Fili was kind in that way, but sometimes it could get overbearing to the point where he started sounding like their mother. Kili loved Dís, but when she became worried, he wanted to snap her back into place again. The look in Kili's eyes was firm with bits of concern flickering within. "I know you are next in line, Fili. But, please, do not start worrying to the point where all other emotions stop functioning. I love our people, and I do not want to see them killed by some strange thing in black, but that does not mean I shut other people out."

"I'm not-,"

Kili's glare became scolding and Fili withdrew his comment. "Yes, you are. That little snap that you _just_ did, was similar to that of Amad when she becomes so wrapped up in things that she loses track of other emotions."

Fili shrugged off his brother's grip. The look of self regret cast his gaze downward like a dog. Kili let out a long, hiss like breath. "You're right…" Fili muttered. His voice was very quiet, almost an inaudible whisper. "Seeing Sol reminded me that generations of our people will be most likely effected by the war that will come eventually." He sighed heavily, "But, many would say that we should not burden ourselves with such worries when they are not present. How can people do that, knowing full well that something of great doom lingers overhead?"

"I have told myself that when that time comes then we will worry physically, but until then only worry in your mind." He smiled weakly not knowing what else to say. He was not very good with words as many would think; he was quit terrible in fact. He let out a small chuckle that was swept away by a gust of wind. He looked to his brother, who was looking at him fondly. "What?"

"Idiot," Fili whispered tapping Kili's forehead with two fingers. Kili smacked his brother's arm away like a small child would. Fili laughed at the gesture, and ruffled his hair. Had Fili not been not in current state of mind, Kili would've hit his shoulder for good measure. "You really are no philosopher, but when times press you pull through."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When people you love are feeling upset, you typically pull smart words out of the air." Fili started towards Erebor's halls, leaving Kili behind to stare at the world in a bit of shock. His gold eyes were staring blankly ahead like he had gotten on the head to hard. He could not make heads or tails if Fili was making fun of him or being sincere. He felt a hand grab him and pull towards the entrance back inside. Fili had a hold of one of his tunic sleeves, pulling him along like a dog on a leash.

He watched the gold firelight glitter off of the walls of Erebor as he lollygagged behind Fili, who had a strange fast gait. The mixture of soft, pale sunlight mingling with the burnt orange and gold firelight cast dancing circles of color upon the stone walls that were finely polished to the smoothness of river stones. He had been living in Erebor a long while now and never once did the walls appear so beautiful. He remembered the slightly glittering blue halls of Belegost sparkling in spring or summer's light, but compared to Erebor it was dull and held no shine. He could hear the clicks of his brother's boots stop causing him to stop as well. They had stopped before the steps of the throne room.

"What's wrong?" Kili hissed poking Fili's shoulder blade. Fili raised a hand to silence him, which halted his next question. Light blue eyes stared back at him through wisps of gold, and within Fili's eyes was a great sense of command. He gave him the sign to listen with a gesture upward towards the hall. Kili did as instructed; turning his full attention to the main hall and shutting his eyes. He could hear the sounds of Balin speaking to both Coruwen and Thorin. The words sounded like whispers trying to be heard over the laughter of people. What words did come to his ears, they were disjointed and made no sense. "I am not hearing much…"

"Let's get closer," Fili replied, starting up the steps. Kili found it impossible to be quiet with Coruwen's sensitive hearing and sight. They were quiet for their race, but not for hers. She was like a cat, soundless until she wanted to pounce on you. In fact, Kili had asked Coruwen what they sounded like to her, and she answered that they sounded like rain upon sheet metal. He thought it was a bit exaggerated.

They approached the great door leading into the throne room finding that they were half cracked open. Fili situated himself on the door that was closed, leaning up against the iron wrought door engraved with half the symbol of Erebor and three silver lined stars. Kili leaned up against the stone wall, allowing him to stare into the pillar lined Throne room that was big enough for Freya to fit her long body into. He caught the glimmer of the Dragon Blade's hilt that was leaning up against the side of Coruwen's thigh. He could see the black fabric of her dress along with the small bit of porcelain skin that he realized was her hand resting upon her knee.

"Dwarrowdelf was long since forgotten by old miners when goblins started inhabiting different sections that were barren of their resources," Thorin said firmly. "I would love to reclaim one of the greatest dwarf cities, but it is folly to do so."

"And wherever did you get _that_ assumption?"Balin's voice asked in mild curiosity. Kili heard a sliver of edginess come to the old warrior's voice as he spoke. Kili took it as a sign that Thorin was pushing on Balin's calmness level. That _only_ happened when Dwalin was nearby. "People have been saying that goblins have long since left Dwarrowdelf's halls. We may have a chance."

"That chance is slim," Thorin replied in a chopped sentence. The rap of a scabbard upon stone made Kili jump; he knew that familiar rap now. The Blade of the Dragon had hit the floor in a yell for attention.

"Enough," Coruwen soothed. Her voice was smooth and calm, not firm in the slightest. "Ori, have you found anything on the city?"

"Working on it," Ori's little voice returned hurriedly. "Just can't seem to find what you're asking of me."

"All right," Coruwen replied. Kili slinked closer to the door giving him more sight into the room. Light danced in the middle of the vast room coloring the engraved stone a light grey. He caught sight of Ori, sitting with his legs criss crossed, beside Coruwen's right hand on the floor with stacks of books around as he scanned through two that rested on each leg. His light brown hair was frizzy as he combed his fingers through it nervously. Then Kili saw Coruwen, she wore a dress of black and white with long sleeves that covered her hands. Her left hand was resting upon Thorin's wrist with their gold rings glittering in the pale sunlight. Her blue eyes were trained upon Balin, Bofur, Bifur, and Dwalin; who all were standing before their king and queen.

"_What is Ori looking for exactly?"_ Kili mouthed as he watched a book get flung over Ori's head and landing somewhere far behind him. This was strange for Ori, who loved books more than people. The young dwarf's brow was furrowed in thought as two fingers tapped over a passage.

"Found something," Ori smiled handing the book up to Coruwen, who removed her left hand off of Thorin's wrist. The queen's eyes scanned the passage and slowly a frown came to her face. "I could only make out a few instances of Tengwar within, but-,"

"Balin, going to Moria is a fool's idea," Coruwen said raising her gaze from the book. "If what this book says is true, and Durin's Bane still lives, then horrible things could happen." The concern in her voice was slowly breaking her voice. Her fingers brushed the tips of the pages. "There was a reason that Gondolin was destroyed, and Moria cannot be retaken. Balrogs are a spawn of Morgoth, and they are not to be taken lightly. The sole reason that the Balrog of Moria has not killed the goblins is because they pray to it."

"Did Dain not say that he felt Durin's Bane when he stepped towards the gate?" Dwalin asked.

"Aye, that he did, but that was many years ago and I have a strange feeling that Durin's Bane has been put to rest." Balin stated. "I cannot be certain that it has happened, but Balrogs must sleep once in awhile."

"And what then? What if we can possibly reclaim Dwarrowdelf?"

"We will do what we did with Erebor. It is that simple."

Coruwen looked down at Ori once more as he played with the tip of a braid. Kili slinked into the room, which he hoped she did not hear him as he sat against a pillar in the shadows. He did not enjoy having to sneak around like this. Fili could get away with being in the room with such matter, but he could not. He saw Fili's gold hair bob up as he prepared to enter the room. The queen's blue eyes flicked up to the door when she heard Fili's footsteps reach her ears.

"Coruwen," Ori said handing her a book. Her eyes fell on a picture of Durin's Bane standing in a plume of shadow and flame with its horned head rising from the flames. It eyes were the color of flame with immaculate power and fear emanating from a simple picture. "It that similar to what you've seen of Balrogs?"

"Yes, it is," She whispered as if the breath had been swept out of her lungs. The twinge of a cough crawled up her throat like a spider. The cough had been keeping itself concealed as of late with the aid of medicine, but once in a while it would strike at odd moments. "Thorin…"

From her hands, Thorin took the book observing the picture. Her husband's eyes narrowed at the sight. His jaw tightened as he shut the book. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist loosely, but it did not stop the feeling of anger from radiating off of him.

"Balin, we cannot lose you at this moment in time," Thorin stated. Her husband's firm tone was enough to make Balin take a step back mentally. The look of somberness was in Balin's eyes and disappeared when he shut his eyes. "Should there be a time of peace once more then you will be allowed to leave for Dwarrowdelf."

"I understand completely, my king," Balin replied with a bow of his head. He and Bifur walked off leaving Dwalin and Bofur behind. Thorin eyed the two curiously with the darkness of agitation and anger leaving his eyes. With the release of his anger, Dwalin seemed to relax physically and Ori halted his hurried pace of flipping through books.

"I do not believe I have ever seen you become cross with Balin before," Coruwen commented softly. Thorin's eyes met hers, and she saw him become a tad solemn.

"The queen's right, what is the matter?" Bofur asked sitting on the steps before Ori. The king shook his head, but Coruwen rested her fingers in between his. Dwalin looked up at him in a slightly condescending manner with both hands resting upon the end of his war hammer.

"I suppose too much has been on my mind," Thorin replied turning his hand to catch his wife's hand. Her gaze watched the rise and fall of his chest. Deep within her soul, she felt his uneasiness, but physically she saw his hand curl around her slender hand tightly along with his chair arm. "Balin's desire to go off to Dwarrowdelf is that of a fool. We attempted to take back that city numerous times only to have battle take so many of us."

"It could be done with a small group, you know," Dwalin stated. Coruwen caught the uncertainty of his voice. The brothers did not desire to be parted, but Dwalin was firmly against going to Moria. His dark eyes became sad and his gaze was cast down. The look and disposition that the warrior took on was not Dwalin, but rather someone else in his skin. "My brother has this stupid notion that going there will change everything. He believes that since we took back Erebor, Moria should be that easy to retake."

"We will have to let him figure it out on his own," Coruwen reminded them. Bofur glanced up at her curiously. He leaned back against a stack of books to look at the ceiling. "You should not feel ashamed for your brother's actions, Dwalin."

"I am not," Dwalin grumbled. "I am merely angry at the fact he would assume that Moria would be easy to retake! He fought in the battle against Azog at the gates; he should have known that the city cannot be retaken!"

"I wonder if someone could enter through the back gate," Ori thought aloud. All of the people stared at Ori with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. Coruwen knew Ori was only tossing ideas out into the air, but it made the most sense. She gave him a soft smile as he looked up at her. "I-I mean we did it when we came to Erebor, right? There should be a back door somewhere."

"Ori, don't you go getting into my brother's ludicrous idea," Dwalin growled.

"No, Dwalin he's right," Coruwen interrupted. "Moria should have at least two back doors since Dwarrowdelf was expansive. If we don't want Balin going off to Moria, we best hide the maps marking the entrances."

Thorin narrowed his eyes up at his wife, which made her cast her gaze to the engraved floor. His blue eyes were sterner than she predicted they would be. She let out a short breath tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair. She flicked her eyes down to Ori, who blinked up at her in confusion.

"How many maps do you have on Moria, Ori?" She asked shutting her eyes for a brief second. Her senses stretched into the expanse of the room, and she graced a familiar presence in the far right corner of the room. She opened her eyes, looking to Fili who was looking toward the exact spot she had graced. She saw Ori shuffling paper around into neat stacks and he counted each of them with the numbers words playing on his lips. He then dropped the stack of paper, shutting his eyes.

"Fifteen?" Ori mumbled looking up at his queen quizzically. Coruwen was shocked by how many they possessed; she was sure that they did not possess fifteen maps of Erebor. She leaned on the heel of her hand with her slender hand covering her eyes. "And that is just an estimate…"

"Hide them, all of them. Dwalin, Bofur, best help him."

Bofur leapt up scooping up a pile of books to which Ori went pale at the man-handling of his books. He picked up a smaller pile, following after Bofur, who marched off to the library. Dwalin leaned his war hammer up against a pillar before grabbing books to follow the other two. She glanced over at Thorin, who was lightly smirking at the antics of the company. Coruwen gently slid her hand into his once more, entwining their fingers together.

* * *

Dís watched Dwalin descend the steps from the main hall carrying a great deal of books in his arms while curses were uttered in rapid Khuzdul. She quickly climbed the steps and entered the room through the large crack in the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kili sitting behind a pillar with his fingers fashioning braids out of his dark hair.

"Kili," Dís scolded narrowing her eyes at him. Kili's gold eyes went wide and he froze. She strode forward, kneeling before him. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I was eavesdropping-," Kili started but halted himself. He shut his mouth with his eyes narrowing out of frustration. "Damn it, I did it again…"

Dís chuckled, placing her hand on his forehead. His face was downcast with shame as he bumped his head on her shoulder. She found it rather cute to behold since he had had done this whenever he was in trouble. It reminded her of a dog coming before its master in shame of being caught. She smiled lightly, patting her youngest son's back in assurance. He mumbled his apology into her shoulder; she accepted the muffled apology, but she reminded him it wasn't her he needed to fear. Kili sat back up, shifting his gaze backward.

"Do I have to?" Kili mumbled.

"I do not know why you have this insane notion that you should stealth around like this," Dís said standing back up. Kili leapt up with a slight teeter most likely caused by lack of blood flow to his legs. Strands of his dark hair hung in his eyes to which she swept away with a simple sweep across his eyes. When she looked upon Kili, she saw a mixture of her lost husband and her father. He was blessed with the dark hair of the line of Thror, but the handsome face and eyes of her husband. She patted his hand. "You are an heir, Kili. You shouldn't be hiding like this since you are of age now."

"But-,"

"Kili…" Coruwen's voice came from behind him. Dís saw him shudder at the smoothness of her sister in law's voice. In her spirit, she shuddered as well. Coruwen had that strange, smooth voice that made people feel a tad uneasy. She smiled brightly at Kili, giving him a motion to move along. He shook his head, and she rolled her eyes.

"Go on," Dís said motioning with her hands for him to walk. He half walked, half shuffled his way toward his aunt and uncle, who had come to stand up with Fili nearby Thorin's right side. Thorin motioned with two fingers for the boys to follow him out of the main hall, leaving Coruwen with her. She saw a flash of pain in the queen's eyes as she took a step down. "Are you all right?"

Coruwen's attention snapped up to hers. Deep sky blue eyes were indeed marred by pain's grip. Dís saw her gaze flick over to the corridor that Thorin and the boys had disappeared down. Dís sensed something was wrong with Coruwen; the way she held herself was not as high along with the deeply etched pain in her eyes. The Dragon Blade beneath her hand was the only thing holding her up right now as she slowly crumpled to the floor.

"Coruwen, what in the world is going on?" Dís asked firmly, starting towards her. It was then that a most horrible sound came to her ears. A rasp like cough came from the queen as she shook. Dís heard a desperate gasp for air that was muffled by a hand. She knelt beside Coruwen, and took her shoulders to draw her closer. The elf queen was shaking physically as if she was stricken by the cold and she was deathly pale. "Oh Mahal, you're sick."

"I am fine," Coruwen coughed. Her breathing deepened as it fought to draw breath. "I have been," She let out a small cough, no where the same ferocity as before. Her smooth voice was hoarse, almost scratchy, "Dealing with this for a year now."

"Then why have you not said anything before?" Dís helped her stand, finding that Coruwen regained her tall stature once more. "That cough sounds horrible, have you told anyone?"

"Dain, Dain knows," She breathed.

"Does Thorin-?"

"No, I do not plan on telling him."

"Why? He is your husband, he has the right to know," Dís could not believe her… Coruwen would rather keep Thorin in the dark than tell him of her health. She saw it as childish to do such a thing. "Why will you not tell him?"

"Because the time has not come yet…"

"Then what time will that be? When you are lying dead before him?" Coruwen's gaze rose to her own fierce one. Dís wanted to see her brother happy, and he was just that with Coruwen. "My brother loves you far more than the heirloom of our family! Why are you tossing aside your love for him?"

"I am not tossing it aside…"

"Then what are you doing? Why are you keeping him in the dark?"

The queen let out a short, irritated breath and she straightened herself to her full height. "Because if I tell him, I will no longer be free. I will be confined to these halls until either my sickness, old age, or both take me. That is not the life I desired when I left the elves. I am no bird you can put into a cage and expect to sing." Ferocity ignited to life in Coruwen's voice as she looked down at Dís. "Though your brother knows this, his protective nature is stronger and will tell him to prohibit me from walking outside like a free person. I have seen it happen with the women of your race."

Dís took a mental step back, not realizing that fact. Thorin was protective by nature and would not doubt cast aside all thought to protect Coruwen, even if it suffocated her. She knew the feelings that the queen spoke of. Her husband had told her to stay inside his halls when she was pregnant with the boys both times. Dís hated those long months while she was prohibited from walking outside. She shut her eyes for a brief moment. "I-I understand," Dís replied wrapping her dark hair to rest on her shoulder. "I understand your logic for my husband restricted me from walking freely when I was pregnant with the boys."

"Dís…"

She gave the queen a gentle glance. "Is there anything you are taking to control the cough?"

Coruwen dipped her head to her. "There is a medicinal herb that Lady Iris has in Dale for me. I was planning on sending Merida for them since I have run out."

"Right and that herb alone seems to work?"

"I have not coughed since Dain was here a few months ago. This is the first outburst I have had," Coruwen replied. She started toward the main hall exit until she stopped short. She glanced over her shoulder with a solemn expression on her face. "Dís please do not mention this to anyone."

"Your trust is well placed, Sister."

* * *

Coruwen ran her fingers across the satin fabric of a shift that she had been stitching beads to. The shift was flowing like sheer silver water over her fingers as she worked on the stitching. She had forgotten the last time since she had sat down at sewn for she had been so preoccupied with affairs ranging from large diplomatic arguments to small things like sorting out family disputes. A sharp pain pricked her finger while her mind wandered to several events making her recoil. She had pricked her index finger on the needle drawing a small bit of blood.

As she put pressure on the small prick, she saw the door to her chambers open a bit. In the doorway stood Thorin, who was glancing over his shoulder speaking to Dís. Her sister in law's alto voice chuckled as they spoke in rapid Khuzdul to the other. Thorin groaned, shaking his head at small quip Dís made before her door shut.

Thorin shut the door with his gaze still locked on the floor. He removed Orcrist from his hip and setting it beside the door beside the Dragon's Blade. He glanced up directly from his wife's blade to see her lying on a burgundy chaise sofa in a gown of pearlescent white with a robe over her shoulders as she held a shift in her hands. Coruwen gave him a soft smile before returning her gaze to her shift.

"Where did you run off to?" Coruwen asked as he disappeared into their bedroom. She heard him moving things around in the room along with the shutting of cabinet drawers. "Thorin?"

"I had to speak with the boys about something," Thorin replied coming back to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and settled behind her. "Kili still believes he is too young to be involved with certain affairs. He seemed rather unsettled at first, and it took both Fili and I to explain it thoroughly."

"And?" Her voice rose in curiosity. Her thin fingers started to stitch together black thread throughout the shift. His train of thought got lost for a moment as he watched her work. She shifted against him to where her elbow dug into his hip sharply.

"He will stop sneaking around now," He let out a breath when her elbow removed itself from his hip. "But Kili did not tell me why he was sneaking around in the first place. I assume it had to do with age, for Frerin did it as a young man."

"Did it ever cross your mind that he had a small fear of being a diplomat?"

Thorin's brow furrowed in thought. His wife stopped stitching and glanced over her shoulder at him through strands of gold. That thought truly never did pass through his mind for he assumed that his sister-sons would follow in his footsteps in that manner. He was no diplomat by nature, but he could perform quite well if needed. In thought, he played with Coruwen's gold hair by twirling a few strands around his fingers. He felt her fingers brush up against his hand, trying to stop him. He allowed her to grab his hand and she placed it back on her waist.

"I suppose it never did," He answered simply. "Fili has shown in interest in following after me, but I have yet to piece together Kili." Coruwen craned her head back with her blue eyes asking him to continue. He bowed his head touching foreheads with her. "Maybe it is because Kili is more like their father in the regard that he enjoys being free. I could easily be very wrong, but ever since he was little Kili has intrigued me with his different take on ideals."

Coruwen returned her head forward again and she relaxed into his grip further. She let out a hum of thought, and he felt her fingertips run over the tops of his hands. The touch was gentle almost nonexistent if he had not known she was present.

"Kili is not so different from your sister," She said finally. He found that a bit surprising to hear from her. "Dís is a very free spirited woman, as free spirited as any dwarf can be, of course. No doubt Kili obtained that from her. So in truth, he is no different than her."

"I-I never thought of that."

"You would have think back to when your sister was his age," Coruwen's fingers played with his ring and tunic sleeve. The touch of her sparked a bit of fire in his blood, but he pushed it away. Once again, she was his greatest strength and weakness. As he broke away from the fire, he thought back to Dís' younger years. Dís had always followed her own path; unlike him and Frerin had when they followed the path of their forefathers. The more he thought it over and compared the two, the more he saw a resemblance between mother and son. He heard the soft, melodic laugh of his wife to which he raised one eyebrow. "I know you're looking at me funny, but I assume you figured it out."

"Aye, I have what of it?" He pulled her back into him that made her laugh a bit more. Her laugh was such a rarity that he delighted to hear it whenever he could. Coruwen turned her head to face him allowing him to meet her sky blue eyes. They were bright with mirth almost the true color of the sky on a spring day. She placed a small kiss on his nose that made him smile. Gently, Thorin tucked the front section of her hair behind her ear, which allowed him to trace her jaw with the back of his hand. "How did you figure out that Kili and Dís were similar?"

"I spoke with her earlier and found that she and Kili are oddly similar in the regard of freedom." His fingers wandered down to her neck where he found the chain of her necklace. Coruwen sat up and rolled one shoulder. She returned to him by curling around his left side so that her head could rest on his chest. "I find it strange that you never noticed that…"

"So it slipped my mind, you are not without fault as well, Coruwen." He ran his fingers through her hair feeling it slip through his fingers freely like the wind passing through the grass. The section he was running his fingers through fell onto her side and he saw her looking up at him with a gentle smile on her face. He had remembered what Dain had told him once about the way Coruwen smiled when someone would say something; his cousin could not depict what emotion she was truly portraying. Slight reprimand was shining her blue eyes making him wonder what he done to evoke this. "What have I done?"

"You have done nothing; I was thinking," She stated as her smile fell. Her voice faded into a low tone of lingering thought, which was rather odd for her to do. She bowed her head causing her hair to fall around the sides of her face. It made him curious to why she was suddenly having lingering thoughts. "I was thinking about the fate of the Nazgûl and Sauron. We have not heard any news from Rorik or Dain about any dark forces. I am beginning to wonder if something has occurred within the old fortress."

"What could have occurred? You said that the Dark Lord was calling his minions a few months back, and now what would he be doing other than hunting for his ring."

"He needs a stronghold that is not close to any type of pure good. Elves are so very spread that there not too many places are free of my kindred. The only place he could flee would be Mordor."

"And that is very far south, and if he is as weak as you and Thranduil believe then he will not get far." He raised her gaze up to his and concern was strong in her eyes. She had been worrying so much that it seemed very little of any other emotion would come forward. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips to which she smiled faintly. "You have been worrying too much. Can you not let some things go?"

"When I do, other things just replace them," She sighed with a solemn expression on her fair face. "I have stopped trying to fight the worry that clouds my judgment. What point is there in fighting against a rising wave?" Her voice became quiet, almost below a whisper. Her eyes flicked back to him as he frowned at her. Her light blue eyes were full of grief with fragments of love. "Be cross with if you want, but I cannot deny that I worry incessantly about the rising darkness."

"You are not yourself, and I understand that you are worried, for I worry about our fate as well." He sat up and placed a hand against her cheek, his thumb brushed against her cheekbone which made her eyes close. "You cannot keep doing this; it will make you become something that you are not."

Her slender hand rose and rested upon his with her eyes opening to half slits. Her eyes were very dark with swarming emotion, and his spirit could feel her uneasiness. "I do not mean to bother you."

"You are doing anything but that, my dear. I am concerned that I will lose you should you persist like this." He lowered their hands and kissed her knuckles. Her eyes opened to look at him with a bright love within them, such a love made his spirit lighten realizing he had a fair jewel before him. "You should rest, Coruwen," He slid his hand free of hers to sweep a few gold waves behind her pointed ear. "I will join you in a few minutes."

She gave him a quizzical look, but did not object. He waited until she had disappeared entirely to walk out onto the balcony where Cairn sat upon the stone rail with his amber eyes watching the horizon. The raven lord had gained a new plumage of feathers of ebony and dark taupe that were veined with the light of the crescent moon. When Thorin greeted the lord with a gentle pat on the head, Cairn turned his gaze backward to him.

"Is she asleep yet?" Cairn whispered. Thorin glanced back not hearing any movement, but Cairn simply blinked at him. "She is an elf, she will hear you. The queen knows your voice and mine quite well…"

To the best of his ability, Thorin quietly walked up to the door of their bedroom to find the room pitch dark. His eyes adjusted to the deep darkness and began to search for Coruwen. He spied gold hair that was stark against the dark fur blanket and when he listened he could hear her breathing was deep. He hadn't suspected she would have fallen asleep so quickly, she did not appear tired in the slightest to him. He returned to Cairn, giving him a small nod.

"What do you ask of me, my king?" Cairn inquired. Thorin allowed Cairn to perch on his forearm so that they could see eye to eye. "I am not flying off to the Iron Hills again, am I?"

"Not unless you miss Dain that much," Thorin teased. Cairn let out a small groan, shaking his head. He chuckled at the lord's response and he stroked Cairn's chest feathers with two fingers. "I need you to fly to Freya, and ask her if she can come to Erebor. I require her extensive knowledge on the world of Sauron."

"Why in world-?" Cairn shook his head. "Never mind, it shall be done," The lord hopped off of Thorin's forearm and he waddled onto the ledge with his wings unfurling for flight. "I will just have to get over my fear of giant snakes that think I taste like chicken."

"Freya doesn't eat little ravens, Cairn."

Cairn scoffed, "Bet me." The raven flexed his wings and he shot up into the air. "I shall return by morning's light, my king."

The king bowed his head watching the raven slip off into the darkness of night with only the moon's light to guide him to Ered Mithrin. He hoped that Freya would ease Coruwen's nerves along with give him insight about Sauron. He hadn't seen or heard any word from the Great Dragoness in a long time, about three years in fact. His eyes wandered up to the cloudless sky were dozens of small stars flickered like white candle flames. The crescent moon that hung in the sky reminded him of Rivendell many years ago when Elrond had read the Moon Runes upon his grandfather's map. He shook his head, shaking himself free of that old adventure. Thorin's eyes fell upon his ring that was pale gold in the moonlight. The adventure had given him many gifts and many curses, but his ring signified one of the many gifts.

The king left the balcony and returned to his wife, who was sitting up and looking at him curiously. She had been waiting for him. He blinked in shock at the sight of her slightly awake state. When he joined her, he found that she was awake because she had heard Cairn's ending statement before he flew off. The two laid in the pitch dark of the room talking, but speech turned into an embrace allowing their spirits to entwine.

* * *

Cairn landed on a jutted out rock with the dark silhouette of Ered Mithrin in the dwindling moonlight. He wings were a tad sore from fighting against cold Northern winds and the few stray owls chewed him out for being in their territory. He let out a puff of air before rising into the air once more. He remembered Vasha stating that Queen Freya lived in the old Dwarven city created by King Thror many years ago. This would've been easy had he known where the bloody city was. He had flying over the greatest peak of Ered Mithrin for hours with no sign of the city in any cavern.

"Well Hello there," A voice chirped. Cairn hovered in the air searching for the voice. He only saw black in his line of sight. "Down here…" Cairn looked down to see a small chickadee sitting delicately upon a tall pine tree eyeing him with her black, beady eyes. Her voice was tiny but more beautiful that any birdsong he had heard before. "What'cha doing up here, Mister Raven?"

"A girl like you should not be caring," Cairn answered as he landed beside her. The chickadee ruffled her wings a bit, puffing up her chest to appear big. Cairn mentally laughed at the sight.

"Well, sir, this is my tree and I can kick you off if I see fit," The chickadee sang. "Now, tell me why you are all the way up here."

Cairn sighed. "I am the Lord Cairn hailing from Erebor. I come in search of Freya, daughter of Ancalagon the Black."

"Oh," Chickadee replied. "You're a bit too far; she lives in this mountain's sister. Go west until you hit the door in the mountain, and there you will find the gate leading to a Dwarven settlement. The door's always open, so feel free to go inside!"

The chickadee flew off into the night, and Cairn blinked in shock. He rose into the air, following the Chickadee's directions to the great, steel gate open abroad for a dragon to enter. The gate was heavy rusted, but Cairn could make out the symbol of the crest of Durin upon its walls. He waddled inside hearing a great snore from within. He hopped, almost picking up his wings to move himself along. Deep within the winding halls, similar to that of Erebor's design, Cairn saw Freya's bone white neck scales catching streams of moonlight. He dove down into the depths landing on a spear that was stuck into the wall.

"Freya," Cairn shouted. The dragoness' cat eyes opened and the raven felt a small shiver dart down his spine. He prayed to the Earth Mother that she would not see him as food. The Dragon Queen rolled over onto her stomach with her wings slightly unfurled from sleep. Her great sigil pupil was expanded greatly because of the darkness making her appear like a predator catching the scent of blood. Her nose passed over him, inhaling his scent.

"Little Raven Cairn, it's been an age," Freya greeted. "What brings you to my Hold?"

"I come bearing news from Thorin Oakenshield," Cairn began with his little voice cracking from nervousness. Freya's amber eyes became curious as she shifted once more. "He wishes for you to come to Erebor for he requires your insight upon the matters of the Dark Lord Sauron, who has been growing in the South-west. Why he requires your insight, I do not know."

"I see," Freya replied scratching her chin with her vermillion claws. She let out a happy rumble and rested her wings against her back. "I shall fly with your in the morn, little lord. You must be tired…" He mentally agreed with her as he waddled up to Freya's broad paw. "You will be safe here, rest for I will wake you in the morning when we will fly."

"Thank you, Great Dragoness," Cairn answered as he flew up to one of her ram curled horns where he landed, tucked his beak beneath his wing and fell asleep. Freya smiled as she shut her eyes.

"_Why do the leaves fall in autumn, but come back again? At the coming of an age, the leaves of the world will fall…" _Freya thought to herself as she fell into the pits of slumber.

* * *

**A/N: So, I did the math last night, and found out what year we are in. I had gotten wrapped up in everything that I forgot which year it was book time. So, according the the appendices of _T__he_ _Return of the King_, our current year is about 2946; two years before Theoden was born. So, at the top of the chapter, I am going to start putting the current year, that way we don't forget what year it is. If any of you have the appendices at hand, take a look at what is coming our way, kind of. I will be changing certain things around because this is AU. **

**Sorry for the long Author's Note, and until next time. :) **

-_Please Review _


	16. Chapter 16

**A Presence Known**

* * *

**-2946-**

* * *

Cairn cringed when he heard a rather loud thump beneath his thin legs. All he saw was a great darkness beneath his eyelids, but could hear everything. The thump rattled the stone walls of the Ered Mithrin settlement and he opened his eyes gazing down at Freya, whose head was lowered to the floor. The scent of flesh and metallic blood reached his nose making his curiosity peak. He flexed his ebony wings once, flapping down to the ridge of Freya's eyebrow to see that she had snagged a large musk ox during his slumber upon her horn. That or she moved him; which he didn't want to think about since he still feared this dragon. He dove down to the floor, landing on a slightly gnawed on rib bone that was stark white from Freya's pink tongue that flicked over the remains of blood and flesh.

"How are you this morn, little raven?" Freya asked chewing on a bit of the ox's thigh. Cairn picked at a piece of red-pink flesh and he swallowed the meat which left a slightly sour taste in his mouth. The musk ox's meat tasted grainy like it had been eating something putrid. He did not object to free food in the slightest, but continued to pick apart the remains that Freya had flicked his way while she chewed on the thigh.

"Quite well," Cairn replied as he flipped a bit of meat into the air. Freya gave him a faint smile as she dragged the devoured corpse away. Cairn saw in a dimly corner, a pile of furs that Freya hoarded. Her long talons slit the collar of the ox, and she tore the coat of the ox away from the spine and bones like someone removes clothes. The sound of ripping made him little stomach turn and he turned away, shutting his eyes. His voice became hesitant. "And you?"

Freya let out a hum, "Ready to fly, I believe."

"But, you just ate," Cairn muttered hopping up to her scaly nose ridge. Freya's great eyes watched him with a playful expression shining within. He did not know whether or not to be scared. "I know I cannot fly after eating."

"Oh where is your sense of adventure? You shall ride on my back, or on my head, and I will simply walk out of my home onto the plains of Erebor. Believe me, I walk quite slow." He stared up at her in disbelief, why would they walk when he had to report back to Thorin by first light? He hopped toward her a bit and she laughed. "Come on now, get up on me."

"But-,"

"No buts, let's go."

Cairn flew up onto the Dragoness' horn as she passed him to leave. The little raven found it quite difficult to sit on her horn with her clambering up the sides of the settlement, and it was not until they reached the forest beneath the mountain that Freya's gait evened out. When he looked up, all Cairn saw was lowered clouds and dark green pine trees that were buzzing with the songs of thrushes, chickadees, and blackbirds. Such a song was like an orchestra all being played by the Earth Mother's gentle hand. Not even the slight crunch of leaves dampened the birds' melody. He shut his eyes, feeling the bob of Freya's mighty head.

* * *

_Little Dragon so little and brave, _

_My little lion heart you are forever mine _

_Until the passes of time take you to the grave. _

_Little Dragon, why do you burn the pine? _

_Great Dragon Lord of many Holds _

_You seek great riches in halls of stone,_

_Your eyes only seek that, which is gold _

_Dead Dragon Lord, I sit upon your throne._

_Fair Dragoness with beauty at hand, _

_Your eyes and scales are bright_

_But your mind drifts in the sand _

_Old Dragoness, all you sought was a white knight._

* * *

Cairn's heart let out a small, painful twinge at the song of the Great Queen. She sang of her people, her people who were driven to madness, people driven into submission at the hand of Melkor. Her cultivated, alto voice was quite somber throughout the entirety of the song as she sang of children, great lords, and beautiful ladies all whom turned either to ash or became thralls of war. He leapt off of her horns, landing in the space of her broad shoulder blades that moved like mighty gears. He glanced up at the head of Freya, which was hung low as she hummed out the melody of the song. None of his people could sing like this; they knew no song of dark times, of death, or of watching loved ones sink into madness.

"Did they all fall like that?" Cairn asked in random thought.

Freya let out a sad hum that sounded like a whimper. She halted before the edge of the great forest that overlooked the expanse of plain that stood at Erebor's foot that was seemed oh so very far. He flew off of her back towards her eyes to see her amber eyes shut tightly in sorrow. He had not meant to grieve her in any way; he was simply curious.

"The song tells you just want happened, children became thralls of war, Lords became avaricious, and dragoness' became bitter, vain, and mad with grief. My mother was one of the many who became mad when my father was slain." Freya stated firmly with her amber eyes snapping open to where his little heart threw itself against his rib cage in fright. "Come little raven, let us fly."

"Ladies first," Cairn chuckled as he flew away from the dragoness and landing on a pine tree branch. Freya unfurled her mighty, leathery wings that appeared a deep burgundy in the sunlight that was peaking upon the horizon and faintly painting the horizon in pale pinks, blues and yellows. She crouched low like a mountain lion with her tail swishing to align herself properly before launching into the air. Cairn joined her in the sky, finding to not fall out of the sky with her wings whipping the winds to her disposal. "A most excellent launch, Freya."

"Why thank you," Freya replied with a bow of her head. "Lead on, Cairn."

And so the little raven flew frantically to keep up with Freya's mighty wingspan. He had to stop and sit on her back to rest, but nonetheless led her to the back of Erebor. When he entered his roost, and then weaving his way throughout the mountain kingdom. The stone halls did not glimmer with morning light quite yet, nor did they gleam with firelight. The upper levels were still at rest, most likely meaning that Thorin was not awake yet. He flew back to Freya, landing on her horn to talk into her ear.

"The King and Queen are still asleep, thus allowing you some time to rest." Cairn reported. "I need to return to my family, but will fetch you when Thorin is ready."

"I understand," Freya said with a click of her claws upon the base of the mountain. "Go; be with your family, Cairn."

Now, Cairn did return to his family but then ventured off to the balcony of his king where he waited… He waited like a good little raven who was the messenger of the king and nothing more.

* * *

Thorin heard a scratching around in the sitting room attached their bedroom, and to the best of his ability he attempted to ignore it. The deep darkness was calming for nothing bothered him here, no problems concerning a fool's idea of running to Dwarrowdelf, or the problem of Amren's catatonic state. His eyes cracked open when the scratching continued. He felt Coruwen shift beneath his arm that was wrapped around her loosely. A bit of light allowed him to see her pale, bare shoulders with her golden hair tumbling down onto the bed. She let out a small sigh, and he leaned over her sleeping form to see her face peaceful and in a dreamless sleep. He gingerly tucked a few strands of gold behind her ear allowing him to kiss her cheek softly. He left her side to dress before investigating the strange scratching sound.

"Thorin?" Coruwen's hoarse voice whispered. He froze in the tightening of his belt to glance over his shoulder at her. Deep sky blue eyes that were deeply etched with grogginess stared at him. She was oddly tired in his eyes, and he fixed his appearance as he once was. He heard the shuffling of sheets sparked memories in his mind of her voice whispering to him in the darkness, and the feel of her soft skin beneath his hand. He shook off the thoughts, wandering his way toward her. She was still her previous position, but her legs were drawn closer to her. He sat beside her with one hand resting on her covered hip.

"What is the matter?" He asked softly. Coruwen let out a sigh that was muffled by her hands. "Coruwen?"

"Where are you going?" She replied in a firm voice. Her voice was quiet, but nonetheless firm in slight demand.

Thorin smiled and moved his hand up to her face, where he traced her pointed ear to jaw. Her face shifted at the touch so her face was looking at him fully. She was pale and seemed to glow in the dim light that tried to sneak into the room. Her eyes were half slits but blue peaked out nonetheless. "I have some things to attend to; you should rest."

"No, I will come-," Her voice drifted off as her head sunk back into pillow in sleep. He blinked in shock at her sudden sleepiness. Never before had she done this to him, at most she would surface enough and talk to him for a bit. He searched within himself, for their bond was still strong and he searched her spirit. He felt no strong, brilliant aura from her like he typically did. It was like a candle flickering low, but strong. His hand traced her hairline to where she nuzzled his hand when it passed against her cheek.

"Sleep, my queen, you need not follow me," Thorin whispered kissing her forehead. Her head lolled back to the side with the front section of her hair covering bits of her face. He slipped quietly out of the room and found Cairn sitting upon the hearth with his beak tucked beneath his wing. Thorin found this a bit unbelievable at first to behold, but he narrowed his eyes at Cairn. He cleared his throat, startling the raven awake. "You're back early…"

"I told you first light, did I not?" Cairn laughed as he flew over to the king's shoulder. There was a glimmer of playfulness in the raven lord's eyes as Thorin looked up at him. He had been correct in his timing, to which he mentally praised Cairn for. The raven was an excellent messenger. Cairn's voice dropped low, "Is the queen asleep still?"

"Aye and she does not plan on moving, I believe," Thorin replied in a hushed voice, stroking Cairn's chest with two fingers. The lord nudged the king's hand away with a muffled squawk. "I did not believe that elves could tire as quickly as my wife has. It is rather strange."

"Strange?" Cairn bobbed up and down before lifting into the air. "You should not worry about your beloved, my king. She will be fine. Come, follow me to Queen Freya."

The king and raven ventured through the kingdom to a high balcony where Freya's head could meet the eyes of Thorin. He was surprised to Find Freya lying in the long shadow of his mountain with her head held high watching the clouds. When her amber gaze fell upon him and flicked over, he greeted her welcoming nudge with a raised hand. Her scales were smooth with a slight sheen in the morning light.

"Greetings Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror," Freya greeted. Thorin bowed his head to her and she removed her nose from beneath his hand.

"And the same to you, Freya, daughter of Ancalagon, descendent of Glaurung," Thorin replied. The dragoness gave him a pleased look for she could not smile easily. Her amber eyes twinkled with happiness to see him and be back in the place of her summoning. The sole reason Freya was alive was because of Coruwen, and her finding of Freya's last scale that had been kept in Thror's horde. "I hope it was not too much trouble for you to come down from the mountains."

"Nay, it was not. I was starting to miss this beautiful mountain and all of her glory. And I was beginning to miss you and my Dear One." Freya said with a bit of pride swelling in her voice. "Cairn said you needed my counsel, Great King… Whatever would you need the counsel of an old dragoness for?"

"Sauron…" Freya's lips slightly curled up into a snarl at the sound of the name, for Freya's father had been poisoned by Morgoth at one point. No doubt great hatred lingered in the dragoness' blood for the Dark lord's servant. Thorin also saw the amber eyes of the queen darken to the color of aged amber with veins of fire red glowing bright. A small bit of black smoke escaped Freya's lips as she snarled, but she managed to regain her calm demeanor. "I see that name still stings…"

"Damn that foul Maia to the farthest reaches of the Shadowlands!" Freya growled deep within her chest, which rivaled the rumbling ferocity of a thunderstorm at full strength. Thorin had seen Freya mad at others, but never before had she cursed someone to the lands of the Wraiths. Freya shifted uncomfortably in her own skin, but managed to situate herself with her paws crossed right over left. "I am sorry for my outburst."

"It is understandable," Thorin heard her let out a heavy sigh. "I need to know where Sauron will go, since my wife is in the belief that he has fled somewhere else."

"Mordor," Freya replied simply. "He will flee to Mordor since it was a stronghold of Morgoth, but he is weak currently. He most likely will draw back his strongest wraiths, who will in turn aid his journey. The power of the son of Oropher will be strong enough to cast him away, but not enough to overthrow a strong Wraith like the Witch-King. The Wraiths are his strong weapons, thus you must fear them. They will hunt anything they believe is the Ring and will hunt until the life fades from this good earth."

"We have met one Wraith all ready, and he hurt Coruwen. Thranduil told me he was an Easterling king at one point, by the name of Khamûl."

"That is the left hand of Sauron, whilst the Witch-King of Angmar is his right. Khamûl is a crafty Wraith for he knows these lands well enough, and most likely cannot be overthrown by Thranduil."

"Freya, what will happen should Sauron be at full strength once more?"

Freya grumbled, "As you know all ready, the Elves are leaving these lands to venture back to their homeland of Valinor for the life of Arnor is fading. This gives Sauron a foothold in this world by allowing him to push past the elves and strike at something more... Vulnerable."

"What race is vulnerable?"

"Men," Freya nudged him softly to which he ran a hand up the bridge of her nose. Her amber eyes were stern, but her voice gentle while she spoke. "Men are creatures that desire power, but not all Men are weak. When he will strike, he will strike at the leaders with poison and their troops with wrath. It will take Hope to fix the race of Men and unite them under one banner."

"Hope?"

"Yes, hope. Even though it is small and no bigger than a grain of sand, it has the ability to overcome all obstacles."

"What must my people do to withstand Sauron's wrath?"

"You have been doing it all this time, Thorin." Freya chuckled, but it made the king confused. What had he been doing? He narrowed his eyes at Freya, for she was speaking in riddles just like a certain wizard. It was rather irritating to listen to. His hand rested upon the pommel of Orcrist. The Daughter of Ancalagon shook from head to tail as the sun's light bathed her in a pale light with her rosewood scales catching the flecks of light making them shimmer with a pale iridescence. "Oh, what has you in a bind, hmm?"

"Stop beating around the bush, Freya."

"Your people have been fighting against Sauron for years, but _you_, Son of Thrain, have been eluding the Dark lord by commanding your people to stand together and never scatter. To never look at something with a one dimensional outlook, and most importantly that even the smallest of changes can bring prosperous things to a once lost kingdom."

He shook his head at her words, but she nudged him that made him slightly stumble backwards. Her force was great, and she barely even using a small fraction against him. He growled at the dragoness' gesture which made her swish her tail like a dog. "What small change are you speaking of?"

"Your wife has brought great change, has she not?"

He sighed, not wanting her to be correct, but deep within he knew she was right. Coruwen had brought a certain light to his kingdom that only a queen could give. He looked up to the halo of mist that encircled the peak of the mountain and was able to see through its mists to the cloudless, blue sky. His gaze shifted back down as he heard Freya's wings open. The wind was ever at the dragoness's command for her wings were strong and broad.

"Freya," Thorin said as the dragoness rose from her previous position to stand in the light. She glanced over her wing at him with a bit of curiosity in her amber eyes. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, Thorin, King under the Mountain. I am going to fly for a bit, tell your people I mean no harm and I shall not eat them."

And with that, Freya galloped forward and launched herself into the sky. If he had ever known that his greatest ally would be one of the very creatures that took his home, he would have thought himself mad. Freya had proved her worth to him just as Coruwen did, through sheer stubbornness and battle. However, Freya still gave him reason to not trust her entirely, for Freya still had the blood of her father in her veins and Ancalagon was known for being ruthless. His daughter, sadly, obtained that attribute when battle was waged before her. It seemed as if all other emotions were tossed aside in her fits of ruthlessness. As he watched the dragoness spiral and fly in the sky, a hand rested upon his shoulder. His attention snapped backwards to see Dís, who wore a dress of dark blue with a cloak of fur draped on her shoulders. Her dark hair was free of its typical artistic braid, and some of it hung in her eyes.

"Dís, you're up early," Thorin said quietly as he turned to face her. She smiled softly at him, and then came to stand at the railing of the balcony to watch Freya. "Am I to guess you heard her?"

"She is a dragon, I have not forgotten the sound of a dragon's wings whipping the air," Dís replied. Her tone was quite stern, and the long standing hatred between dragons and dwarves still lingered in her voice and blood. Dís was still very apprehensive of dragons. "Why is she here?"

"I needed her counsel upon a few matters," Thorin told her, watching his sister out of the corner of his eye. Her shoulders rolled back with her fingers knitting together into a steeple and coming to rest upon the stone. That answer was clearly bothering her. "Dís, she means no harm to us. Freya is quite tame…" Dís' eyes flicked over to him and were slowly darkening with anger. "I am of the same mind as you when it comes to dragons, but Freya is quite honorable."

"Thorin, need I remind you that _thing_ is the mother of Smaug? Evil is in her blood, it is just a matter of time," Dís hissed. Her voice was beginning to fill with a venomous anger that only grew as her eyes darkened. "I do not know how you can trust her."

"Freya would not have blessed Coruwen and I had she been of evil nature. I know that she is Smaug's mother, but we have trusted her thus far. She is an ally of Coruwen's, and my wife does not typically have allies as close to her as Freya."

He saw Dís take a mental step back and he rested a hand on his sister's. Her topaz eyes rose to his sapphire ones. Regret was etched into her eyes as she looked up at him. It reminded her much of when they were young and he would have to scold her. But oddly, he thought of Coruwen's words the previous night about Dís and Kili, who they both deemed as similar. As he looked at his sister, he saw the same identical look of regret that Kili had when he was caught or upset; though Kili did not possess the same eye color.

"Dís…"

"I sound like father," Dís muttered, ashamed. She leaned into him, burying her face in his hair. "I sound exactly like him…"

"No, you most certainly do not, sister of mine." His hand reached up, stroking her dark hair gently. "Our hatred of dragons has been long standing, and it is only recently that we have set that hatred aside. I understand where your hatred comes from, for I have felt it once before."

Dís pulled away from him, looking outward to Freya, who was literally dancing with the wind. Under her breath, she whispered. "Old hatreds aside, I must admit she is beautiful."

Thorin withheld a smile at his sister's awe by turning his gaze back inside. In his spirit, he felt something shift; if felt like something was crawling underneath his skin. He looked to Dís, and then back inside. The day had arisen from its blanket of sleep earlier than he anticipated, he had hoped to return to Coruwen and wake her, but knowing Balin and Fili, they were up and looking for him currently. He glanced over his shoulder at Dís.

"Dís," He said gently. The gentleness of his own voice slightly startled him, and it was clear that it had surprised his sister as well. Her topaz eyes blinked in shock of the sound of name. "Could you keep an eye on Coruwen?"

Dís turned to face him fully, giving him a bow of her head. "Why? Is something wrong?" She replied. He could not exactly tell her why; it was just a feeling that was bothering him. She stepped forward, lacing a hand on her brother's shoulder. "I am not complaining… I will keep an eye on her for you. Though she may not appreciate it."

"Knowing Coruwen, yes." He shifted his weight onto his heels. "I believe that Balin and Fili are looking for me, and I do not want to keep them searching forever."

Dís laughed, "Where is your sense of fun, brother? Eluding my eldest and our oldest friend is far more fun than walking up to them." He smiled at his sister's possible game. "I was the one who came up with the idea of eluding you and Frerin, remember?" She started to walk back into Erebor, "Silly brother of mine."

"Tease me if you will, Dís."

"Tis my job, Thorin," Her laughter faded into the depths of Erebor and he shook his head with a small smirk on his lips. Forever his sister would be young in that regard. He had always admired his sister for her ability to remain rather young in the regard of play. Her quips and games were one of the few things that brightened his life. Before he met Coruwen, Dís was his light. It never crossed his mind that was why Dís had been jealous of Coruwen in the very beginning. Simple things that were now in the past had so easily slipped by him and it bothered him a bit. Before turning to find Balin and Fili, he looked to Freya and the great expanse of land behind Erebor. A bit of nostalgia plucked certain heartstrings making him look at the land longer than he desired.

"Uncle?" Kili's voice asked from the door. Thorin snapped out of his daze, looking to his youngest nephew. Kili stood alone in the doorway with curiosity in his gold eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Kili," He replied in a firm voice. It was then that Kili narrowed his eyes at his uncle and Thorin mentally awaited Kili to chew him out, but instead Kili gave him a smirk. He raised an eyebrow to Kili, who rolled his eyes.

"I miss it too," Kili said in a longing voice. Thorin eyed Kili curiously, and his nephew sighed. "I miss Bilbo and the Shire, but I know we cannot leave Erebor."

"Not until times are at peace once more."

Kili looked to his uncle with a look of happiness and hope. "Are you-?"

Thorin patted Kili's shoulder before disappearing back into Erebor in search of Fili and Balin, who were more than likely hunting high and low for him.

* * *

Dís opened the door to her brother's chambers quietly, silently hoping Coruwen would not wake from the noise. The room was only lit by the light of the sun that streamed through the balcony casting dancing shadows into the room. The door to the bedroom stood cracked open with pitch darkness looming within. Dís tore her gaze away from the door to a woven tapestry of Smaug in a background of gold and red. The dragon was not the same for his underbelly was imbued with melted gold and jewels, all that Dís could see were his cream scales. This dragon was not Smaug the Golden, but Smaug, son of Freya. His bearing was that of a queen's son, for his head was held high with his great golden orbs shining brightly. He was kingly in appearance.

Something caught Dís' eye as she turned away from the picture of Smaug. A glimmer of silver and white catching the soft sunlight. Upon a chair, folded into a neat square, was a silver shift with pearlescent beads of white and black thread. Gently, Dís examined the shift to find the stitching done by her sister in law; though it was not complete. The shift was made of a light satin, quite possibly no lighter than air. A rustling was heard behind her, and she turned her attention backward to the bedroom's oaken door. In a most quiet manner, Dís snuck near the door to see Coruwen still asleep. Or so she thought, for Coruwen sat up with the fur blanket hugged to her chest.

"Dís, why are you here?" Coruwen asked groggily, her voice hoarse. Dís smiled, walking up to the elf queen, who appeared quite pale in the grey darkness. Gold hair was spilling over her shoulders like she had been when she was asleep, but it was far frizzier than Dís thought it would normally be. The elleth's hair was long enough to where it touched the dark blanket at her slender hands clutched.

"Thorin told me to come keep an eye on you before you woke," Dís stated. "I am here if you need me, sister."

Coruwen sighed, "That is very unlike my husband, most of the time he comes back to wake me. Is he busy this morning?"

Dís nodded and walked out of the room as the elf rose from the bed. She heard a whispered curse of Sindarin when the thud of the fur hitting floor came to her ears. She smiled at the sound and let out a muffled laugh. "Yes, he is. I believe he had a meeting with Bard later this evening."

"That will drive him insane, and am I to assume that Fili and Balin are going with him?" Dís narrowed her eyes at the statement, with two fingers twirling strands of black waves around. She knew that Balin would at least accompany Thorin to the meeting, but Fili was another matter. Though with the tensions between the advisor and king, Fili might be the only option considering Dwalin could not even be around his older brother currently. Dís sat in a high backed chair that sat beside the tapestry of Smaug. She heard the creak of a door, and Coruwen's gentle voice that made her look up to the see her sister in law standing in the doorway wearing a dress of stellar jay blue with black lining around the collar, sleeves and hem of the dress. "Dís, what is the matter?"

"It is Balin," Dís made a steeple with her fingers and her gaze locked upon the stone floor. Coruwen tipped her head to the side in curiosity, and Dís continued. "He and Thorin aren't on exactly…" She let a sigh, "Equal ground right now. You know my brother and his grudges."

Coruwen let out a huff of laughter, shaking her head. "Yes that I do. Thorin cannot stay mad at Balin forever, it is simply not done." She touched Dís' shoulder, who stiffened. "Then we are without our lion today."

Dís relaxed placing her fingertips upon the slender hand of the elven queen. "We do have someone else who would like to see you." She looked up to Coruwen's face and saw bright curiosity and confusion. "Meet me on the highest balcony that overlooks the North."

"Why there-?" Coruwen shook her head. "All right, so be it."

Dís gave her a genuine smile before departing the room. Coruwen found a decorative comb formed of ivory and carved to depict an elanor flower that grew in Lothlórien, and was a gift from Thranduil. It made her heart ache to see the beautiful gold flowers of Lothlórien captured into a single comb. She gathered certain sections of her hair and tucked the comb into the waves. It was then that something touched her mind, a presence. It seemed familiar, like one of her family was nearby, but she knew Dís had passed on out of her mind's eye and the boys were not present, nor was Thorin. It bothered her, but she put it aside and followed Dís up to the highest balcony that overlooked the plains between Ered Mithrin and Erebor.

The world was turning dead again, for the long shadow of winter was looming overhead. The skies were lucky clear of any grey, but the wind was cool. Coruwen met the light blue eyes of Dís, who gestured up. She did not particularly like the mischievous glint in the princess' eyes, but did as she motioned and looked up. What sat upon the peak of her mountain startled her.

Upon the tip of Erebor, perched like an elegant swan, was Freya with her long tail curled around the peak as it descended close to the halo of mist. The dragoness' scales glimmered in the bright sunlight with her angular horse head held high with her amber eyes shut in the bliss of feeling the wind graze her scales. Coruwen smiled up at Freya, and then called to her.

"Dear One!" Freya boomed as she opened her wings for flight. The dragoness dove down from the peak, landing upon the ground in a muffled thump. Coruwen extended one hand out for Freya, who brought her nose forward to touch. Her scales were cool from the winds. "Greetings, my little queen."

"Hello, Freya," Coruwen replied softly. "So that Cairn went off to in the late hours of the night." Coruwen looked down at Dís, giving her a smile. "Thank you, sister." The princess bowed her head, and disappeared into Erebor leaving Coruwen with Freya. "Why are you here?"

"Your husband sought my counsel upon the movements of Sauron," Freya stated with a bit of edginess in her voice. Coruwen felt the bite of her words, for she remembered Freya's hatred of the Dark Lord and his ilk. She took in Freya's dark amber eyes that were clouded by wrath. Though slowly, Freya's disdain died down. "I am here to help Thorin understand the world that travels south."

"Sauron moves south, you say?" Freya nodded and returned her head back. Her claws scratched the side of the mountain creating a loud screech that made Coruwen's ears hurt. She covered them as Freya's claws objected to being used as mere distractions for anger. "Freya! Stop!"

Freya looked down at her with one paw raised to scratch the mountain again. Amber eyes peered down at the elf queen in bewilderment, but she lowered her paw when she saw Coruwen's discomfort. Freya had never seen Coruwen uneasy like that before, and it made her curious. Her mind thought of the only reason to why Coruwen was uneasy, but she merely shook it free of herself.

"I am sorry," Said Freya "Sauron still to this day bothers me…"

"Freya, You are not poisoned…" Her words drifted off when a dwarf woman came running up the steps that led to the balcony with worry written across her face. It concerned both queens when the messenger spoke of Iris being in trouble. Coruwen knew that Bard kept a guard with Iris should she decide to leave the city, but the guard would have dealt with the issue then and there. Why come to the Queen under the Mountain? Firmly, Coruwen spoke, "What has happened?"

"The Lady Iris… She has gone into labor early, my queen." The woman said gravely. Coruwen's heart stopped with her eyes shutting for a brief second to think. Iris was only twenty five weeks, thus the child had little to no chance of surviving. The elleth tightened one hand into a fist, giving the woman a nod. "Shall I call for anyone else, milady?"

"Merida, and tell her to go to Dale with haste," Coruwen ordered as she darted past the woman, who seemed shocked to see her queen running. Coruwen darted down a series of steps, and came to stop before the gate where Grimbolt and Dwalin stood. A slight bit of confusion crossed Dwalin's features at seeing her before him, and she saw his hand tighten around the hilt of his hammer. "Open the gate, Dwalin."

"Where do you need to go?" Dwalin asked suspiciously. Coruwen let out a groan, finding it a tad annoying that Dwalin did not do as she asked. Typical Dwalin, she thought. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he smirked. "Go on…"

"Thank you," She breathed as she passed him. As she walked out onto the road, she let out a shrill whistle. In response, a whinny came. Like a blonde colored star, Faenaur trotted up to his mistress with white mane tossing about in the wind. For an Elven steed, he was aging quite quickly with his once pink muzzle gaining patches of grey and his almond eyes had less of their stubborn fire. She smiled in relief that he had come, and she reached forward, grabbing a hold of a clump of white, course hair. "Faenaur, ride to Dale." She pulled herself up as his shoed feet rapped the ground as he waited for her. Once situated upon his back, she clicked her tongue for him to gallop off.

The mahogany gates of Dale stood closed with two guards dressed in gold and red stood sentinel, their faces stern. The halberds of these great warriors were engraved with Cirth runes and told the elven queen they from her city. These men were the Guard of the Lord of Dale, for their dress was colored the same but they wore long cloaks of blood red fabric and held together by clasps depicting gold stars. One of the men walked up to Coruwen, bowing to her in greeting.

"I was called by the Lady of Dale," Coruwen said firmly. The guard was mute, but gave her a bow of his head in reply before turning and raising one hand. The gates of Dale cracked open and were surprisingly thick with an inlaid sheet of steel in between the rich brown-red mahogany wood. Faenaur trotted inside and up to the house of Bard, where more men stood in the same dress as the ones that guarded the outside.

Dale was a city fashioned of wheat gold stone and maroon shingles with ivy, jasmine, and many types of climbing flowers grew; though now they were reduced to a dormant state because of autumn. What Coruwen found strange was that no people laughed, danced, or ran in the streets. All was silent. She found that the only song that was being played was by the oak or silk trees. The beat to the tree songs was from Faenaur's hooves that rapped the stone.

Coruwen left Faenaur to the Guardsmen and entered the house of Bard to find it silent as well. She thought there would be at least a scream or shout… The hair on the back of her neck stood up on end when she heard the clatter of a tray hitting wooden floor. It was then that she heard a most blood curdling scream, and it belonged to Iris. She ran towards the backroom to find Iris with two women hanging over a basin of water.

Iris' hazel eyes fell on Coruwen and the queen saw glistening tears running down her pale face. The lady's black hair clung to her forehead, for she shook from head to toe as she winced in pain again. Coruwen felt dread cling to the air when she walked up to Iris' head, taking her hand.

"Why did you call me?" Coruwen asked moving aside some of the lady's black hair when her head bowed forward. Iris leaned against the queen's arm. Through her dress's sleeve, Coruwen could feel that the wife of Bard was cold. Iris winced again, her hand tightening around Coruwen's in a strong grip that nearly crippled her hand. The fight had left Iris' eyes and she fell back against the sheets of the bed, panting. "Iris…"

"Lydia, are they-?" Iris panted with her eyes shutting. Coruwen saw the woman, Lydia, look up to her and she shook her head. Coruwen moved aside some of Iris' dark hair as her breathing evened out and deepened. The elf queen stood, walking over to Lydia inspecting what had occurred. In the mess of blood that was being soaked up by the white sheets, laid a malformed child. Its small hands were curled into fists with ashen skin from being newly birthed, and its back was hunched. Coruwen felt her stomach turn as she looked up at Lydia, who was clearly unnerved as well.

"They were twins," An elder woman stated with a bit of sympathy in her voice. "This is not the lady's fault, Lydia. Sometimes things like this happen."

"Then what do we tell Bard?" Coruwen said in a stern voice. Both women looked to her, shocked. She could not believe that the women of this race treated death and life so casually. It sent anger into her blood to see women casting the children of Bard and Iris aside. "Will we tell him that his children were monsters and died; almost practically killing Iris?"

"My Lady, no. We will tell them that they were stillborn," The elder hissed, "Tis what we tell all the parents of monsters such as this. If we tell them that their children were monsters, then they will not create more heirs."

Coruwen stared at the woman in disbelief. "You are treating them like they are rabbits! They are no pet you can keep in a cage! This was clearly a mistake made by Mother Nature…"

"The Lady Iris was using odd herbs to help herself become fertile," Lydia whispered. Coruwen glanced at her in shock, for the woman seemed ashamed. "I told her not to use them, but she said it was for the better of her people."

Coruwen shook her head. "That is not how a marriage should function. Iris was a fool to think that Bard would love her if she only created heirs for him. The Lord of Dale loves his lady greatly, and will understand." Lydia swallowed her fears, but shuddered as she looked upon the monstrous child. Coruwen took the young woman in her arms, letting her calm herself down. She narrowed her eyes at the elderly woman, who scoffed at Lydia's fears. She would not say it aloud, but she desired to ring the woman's neck for her insolence and inconsiderate behavior. In Lydia's ear she whispered, "I am going to find Lord Bard, take care of Lady Iris…"

"What of the children?" Lydia murmured.

"Leave them; we need to make a point, though it seems a bit inhumane." Coruwen departed the room and approached a guardsman, who saluted her by raising two fingers up to his temple. "Tell me, where is the Lord Bard?"

"The Lord?" The guardsman hummed, digging his spear hilt into the ground. "He should be returning about now, Lady Queen."

"Thank you," Coruwen replied motioning for him to be at ease. Coruwen waited beside Faenaur for Bard, by playing with his white mane of hair. She braided long sections of his mane together into one long rope of course horse hair. It was then that she felt the familiar presence once more as she had earlier and she whirled around with her blue eyes searching high and low for the source. Nothing once more; she thought she was going mad.

"Queen Coruwen!" Bard's voice yelled. Coruwen's gaze landed on Bard, Fili, and Thorin, who were standing beside two guardsmen. Bard, who was typically a jovial man as of late, became quite grim when he caught her facial expression. His brown eyes narrowed in suspicion when she did not speak right away and he strode forward with his fur lined cloak billowing behind him emphasizing his agitation. "Why are you here?"

"Seek out Iris, my lord," Coruwen told him in a firm voice. "That will answer your questions."

"Why?" Bar replied sternly. He looked to his home and then at the elleth. "Explain."

Coruwen whirled to face him with irritation flaring in her voice. "Do as you're told, Lord."

Bard entered his home, calling out for Iris. Coruwen lingered behind for a moment, and then followed him to the room where Iris laid asleep. To her ears reached a series of curses in the old language of Dale that described what he saw. Monsters, foul heathen children. Iris did not waken at the sound of her lord's voice, but Bard stepped out of the room with his face flushed of all color and his brown eyes full of terror.

"W-What w-were those…_things?_" Bard stuttered slightly pointing to the room. Coruwen placed a hand on his shoulder, explaining what had occurred to his children that were supposed to be normal. And slowly, Bard became more and more horrified at his wife's actions. When Coruwen finished speaking, he covered his face with both hands, shaking his head. "Iris, you fool."

"I will not become a part of your disputes, but I suggest you speak with Iris," Coruwen whispered, standing. Bard nodded in agreement, and she left the manor with Faenaur. For Thorin and Fili had departed to Erebor once they knew it was Iris. When she reached the foot of Erebor, she felt the presence again and she hissed under her breath that this was becoming annoying. "Come out! Show yourself!" She shouted above the songs of birds. She grew tired of this little game that someone was pulling with her. Faenaur snorted, and Coruwen agreed with him mentally.

"Coruwen?" Freya's voice asked softly. The dragoness' voice was quiet and her amber eyes curious. "What are you shouting about?"

"There is someone following me!" Coruwen snarled sliding off of Faenaur's back. She tightened her hands into fists with her breath becoming a pant, and the pant became a muffled cough. She had recently taken her medicine meaning that she could not be bothered by that annoying cough. "You see all, Freya. Do you see anyone?"

Freya smiled slyly, "Nay, I do not. However," Freya nudged Coruwen's stomach a bit. "You are not being followed, Dear One."

"Freya, do not start assuming things! _That_ is physically impossible!" Coruwen shouted, but internally she felt as if Freya was right. Maybe that was had been bothering her for all this time upon this day. It was never recorded that dwarves and elves had mated and carried a child before. Her slender hand rested upon her stomach, and she shut her eyes. Quietly, she whispered, "Freya, how do you know?"

"You have been acting not yourself as of late, little one. I know my little one well, and she does not worry like a mother hen, nor does she sleep for hours upon end." Freya said calmly. She nudged her again, but it barely made the elleth jump for it was motherly in a way. "You carry a life within you that has been hiding for two months now."

"I would have noticed that…"

"Upon normal grounds, yes," Freya took a deep breath, letting out smoke rings into the sky. "You have been pushing yourself to unknown boundaries, thus the child became weak and its presence faded. You have finally had the time to rest, thus your child is strong again." The dragoness swished her tail. "My dearest little one will be a mother in ten months' time. Best tell the king before he starts to ponder things…"

"I cannot tell Thorin now."

Freya hummed, "Best do it quickly, and time is of the essence."

Coruwen felt her body become weak as she pressed her hand tighter against her stomach. A smile broke out onto her face as she bowed her head with her gold hair falling in her eyes. Under her breath, she muttered, "I am a mother…"

* * *

A/N: I wanna send a big thank you to _Teres _and _Angel of the Night Watchers_ for reviewing last chapter! The song Freya sang is of my own composition, and I hope you guys like it! End of chapter thoughts?

Until Next Time!

_Please Review! _


	17. Chapter 17

_**My Soul Is Yours**_

* * *

**-2946-**

* * *

_Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ~Elizabeth Stone_

* * *

A few weeks passed and the kingdoms of Erebor and Dale calmed back down to their normal habits of everyday life. The days were becoming longer and colder even with the few weeks passing in such a short period of time. On this cold, autumn morning Coruwen and Dís watched as Fili and Kili spar with the other while Thorin spoke with Dwalin, both of whom were outside. Kili, who was rather light on his feet, was trying to get into one of Fili's blind spots but the older brother would whirl around with a wolfish grin on his face, knocking the younger one backward. The scraping of steel made Coruwen get shivers down her spine and her shoulders tensed up. Her slender hands played with the fur on Dís' cloak while her sister in law watched her with mild intrigue.

"Stop dancing!" Fili scolded crossing his blades and pushing against Kili, who fell onto his back like a dead bug. Kili scowled up at Fili, who smirked. "Can you blame me? I couldn't hit you because you were bouncing, stupid squirrel."

Kili rolled onto his knees, passing a hand through his dark hair. His blade tip dug into the ground helping him to heft himself up onto his feet for he was wobbly from his brother's use of force. "Not a squirrel…" Kili groaned, rolling his wrist feeling the ligaments crack and pop. "See what you did?" Fili walked up to him, grabbed his wrist and pulled making the wrist crack. "Again?"

"Not if you're going to bounce," Fili teased sheathing his blades into the sheaths that rested on his hips. Kili's gold eyes darkened at the little tease, to which made Fili smirk. "Of course, I'll spar with you again, Kili."

Fili heard the scuff of a boot sliding across the rock, and his hand gripped the hilt of his sword as his brother's past his left shoulder. He raised his unsheathed blade, crashing into Kili's, who was in shock of the swiftness.

Coruwen smiled at the sight of the boys being relieved of their past pressures that typically fell upon them as heirs. Fili was the one she mostly worried for since he had been clearly edgy when it came to certain matters, while Kili was more light-hearted on certain issues. The look of command and stern nature was no longer in the blue eyes of her eldest nephew when he fought; he was free, she heard it in his laugh and it was clear in his gait. Upon her low back, she felt a hand come to rest that made her gaze rise to Thorin's, who was watching the boys. For all of the freedom that was happening as of late, Thorin still seemed tense. Her fingers rested upon his knuckles, and he sat beside her.

"Why do you not spar with them?" Coruwen asked sweetly, moving aside strands of black hair to reveal his dark blue eyes affixed upon Kili.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to hers with a quizzical look in his eyes. She had guessed that he did not hear her correctly. She made a motion towards the boys and he looked to them, and then back at her. "I suppose I could," Thorin murmured, his voice barely audible to her own sharp senses. Her hand rested upon his wrist, for she wanted to see her beloved happy again.

"What is holding you back?" She said in the same low whisper that he had used. He shut his eyes, turning away from her. "Thorin, what is the matter?" He shook his head and stood, walking over to Dwalin, who was watching the boys spar from a distance with his hands leaning upon his war hammer. She wondered if he sensed her uneasiness, or if was a diplomatic matter that was bothering him. Dís leaned back, looking at her brother with slightly narrowed eyes. Coruwen sighed, internally defeated, "What have I done?"

"You have done nothing, it is Thorin," Dís whispered. "He has never done this…" The princess looked up at Coruwen, "How strongly does he trust your bond with him?"

Coruwen hummed, "Quite a bit, actually. More than I would normally assume from one of your kind."

Dís pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders with the fur slightly covering her cheeks as her gaze became darker when she looked upon her older brother. Tension was rising again, and Coruwen placed a hand on Dís' own, halting her from speaking out. She could see the desire to do so blooming in the topaz eyes of her sister in law. "Can I just yell at him, just this once?"

"No, it will be fine…" She whispered. "By the end of the night, he will be back to his old self." Dís glanced up at her, shrugged, and then returned to watching her sons. Yes, she hoped he would return to his old self. She so dearly wanted to see him smile again; a smile of true happiness, not one of forced nature.

She heard the crack of stone being crushed beneath metal. Her attention snapped over to Dwalin and Thorin, who were both sparring with the other. A soft smile came to her lips when she saw the boys freeze and watch. The glimmer of Orcrist catching sunlight made the elf queen wince as a clang rang out into the autumn winds. Orcrist paused just before Dwalin's wrist, which held his hammer hilt steady. In one smooth motion, Thorin pulled Orcrist back away from Dwalin, who had froze up when the blade had stopped mere centimeters away from his unguarded wrist. She understood his shock, for Coruwen had seen that same elven blade pointed to her neck. Her hand rubbed her neck as if she could still feel the cold steel pressing against her skin.

Fili sauntered up to Coruwen, sitting beside her with one hand coming to rest upon her shoulder. Kili fell in beside Dís, and began playing with his blade's pommel. There, they all watched the two warriors spar against the other. It eventually came down to a tie between the two, which was not surprising to Coruwen. She knew the skill of both Dwalin and Thorin, and for the two come out upon equal ground was not shocking. Dwalin let out a low chuckle and hefted his hammer up a bit so he could swing it onto his back. Orcrist flashed its bright steel once more before disappearing into the sheath at Thorin's hip. The latter returned to the four onlookers, and motioned for Kili to follow him.

"He's got that old light back," Fili commented with a faint smile. Coruwen peered over at Fili to see him looking at her through his gold hair that had become free of its braids. She reached up, taking certain strands and untying them. "What are you doing?"

"Keep talking," Coruwen replied, weaving small braids. Her gaze fell on Thorin as he dodged a blow from Kili. It made her happy to see him free of the bonds that typically held him in place.

"You see it?" Fili asked as she pulled on a small braid. She found it funny that Fili's hair was practically the same color as hers; it was the color of molten gold and stark against dark clothes. As she laid one braid to rest, she saw the stark contrast between the black tunic and dark brown leather he wore. "He has been rather uptight as of late, do you know why?"

"I believe a raven came from Thranduil the other day saying something," Coruwen replied, her voice becoming slightly distant as she braided Fili's hair. She shook her head a bit, "I believe it said that the wraiths were searching in the south now, but one has been ordered to watch our kingdom closely."

"Why us?" Dís interrupted. "What have we done to receive his suspicions?"

Coruwen shrugged, truly not knowing why Sauron would keep tabs on her kingdom, unless it was the command she had over Freya. She did not control Freya, for the dragoness did as she pleased, but to outsiders it would seem as if she was controlling the great dragon. "Freya…" Coruwen whispered. "It is Freya that he fears… She is the only child of Ancalagon, and the Dark Lord more than likely feared her sire."

Dís nodded in agreement, "Makes sense to me…"

"Is she still here?" Fili inquired as Coruwen finished braiding his hair. Coruwen shook her head, for Freya had left in the wee hours of the morning one day without notice. Fili's face became downcast with sadness, and Coruwen patted his shoulder. He gave her a short lived smile before knitting his fingers together tightly. "I really do love that dragon; she is kind of like having a big dog… with wings."

Coruwen let out a small laugh at the remark to which Fili chuckled. Once again, he rarely ever heard her laugh. Though something about the laugh sounded off to him; maybe it was the wind playing tricks on him but she sounded like she was straining her lungs to laugh. He internally started taking small notes that would prove his logic to be sound. As her laughter died down to a mere smile, he heard her clear her throat.

"Coruwen, is something the-," Fili was cut off by Kili cursing loudly as he came skidding by his feet. Kili's gold eyes were wide with shock, blinking up at the cloudless sky. The blade in his brother's hand had a rather large crack in the tarnished steel, yet Orcrist was unscathed. Once more, the blade of the king was sheathed but Thorin had a playful glint in his eyes. "Good job, Kili."

"Thank you, I try," Kili muttered to the ground in a sarcastic tone. Kili's dark hair had a good portion hanging in his eyes, which stared up at Thorin in mild agitation. "One day, Uncle…."

Thorin patted Kili's head as he walked past him. Fili shook his head at his brother's aversion of people touching his hair, and he watched as Kili work sections back into less of a mess. He watched as Coruwen stood with the help of Thorin, and his mother followed them. Fili reached over to Kili, ruffling his hair to which he yelped in surprise and darted after Dís. Even when they would be old and grey, Kili would _still_ have that aversion. He stood, following his family back inside.

* * *

Freya heaved a great sigh as she played with a goat that she had captured earlier. The little Billy goat was terrified, shaking from curled horns to wiggling tail. She wasn't hungry, she was simply bored. Her halls were dreary and the only music was from the rain that poured outside, thus killing her idea to go fly. She wished her little raven lord to be here, or even the spirit of her father. Her beloved father, who was a kind soul to his own kindred. It was upon this day, many ages ago, that her father was found dead by her mother in the plains in Aman. She dearly wished she had not heard the roar of her mother rattling the sky…

"Little goat, why is life cruel?" Freya asked calmly, batting the goat around as it darted from side to side. The goat bleated and darted away from her once more and she raised two talons, causing it to freeze. Playfully, she wiggled her talons at the critter. "I suppose you would not know, for as I play with you, life plays with me in the same twisted manner. I dearly wish that I could find more of my kindred here in these mountains."

She raised her head inhaling the clean scent of rain and pine. She picked up the goat, setting him free upon a walkway. She knew of only one dragon besides herself that had survived the battles of the First Age. Though insane, he was some sort of company. However, Freya was presented with a problem; the insane dragon lived in the Withered Heath instead of Ered Mithrin. She thought of the old lord dragon, hanging her head when a crack of thunder rolled across the plain, crashing upon the side of her mountain. In a sad tone, Freya hummed a song her father used to sing when she was a little dragon.

In the darkness of her mountain, her alto voice climbed the vaulted ceilings, filling every space in the abandoned settlement. She laid her head down feeling her voice shake the ground. Her great heart let out a shudder as she shut her amber eyes; though it did not matter whether or not she shut her eyes for the darkness was great, but welcoming. Her mind began to think about pieces of the past in slow moving reels as her memory unraveled.

~.~

In her mind's eye, Freya saw her father, Ancalagon, standing tall and proud with his black scales shining like the great star of the North with veins of ebony green flickering as he moved. He was a king amongst his kind, and his fire red eyes proclaimed so when they fell upon her as a young dragon with paws too big for her long body and her eyes inquisitive about every living thing. She swished her little tail, giving her father a small chirp. Ancalagon let out chuckle that was a sonorous baritone voice that was inviting and warm. He laid down upon the sun bleached stone, allowing his little dragon to climb all over his mighty, wedge shaped head with long scimitar like horns.

"My little ruby," Ancalagon cooed as he held Freya by her scruff. The amber eyes of his daughter blinked and she let out a sneeze that set embers flying from her jaws. "Little firestone now." Ancalagon laughed.

"What are you doing?" A sweet voice asked from behind him. Ancalagon craned his head backward to a small, petite dragoness that was colored vermillion red with sun gold eyes. She was a smaller version practically, with the swan like elegance of her neck to her angular horse head with high cheekbones. This was her mother, the fairest of all fire drakes. "Our little war goddess is no toy, Ancalagon."

Ancalagon gave his mate a sympathetic look. "I was merely playing with her, my bright-scales." The black dragon said innocently. The little dragon in his grip wiggled into the crook of his forearms and curled up into a ball with her amber eyes staring up at her father. "See? She wants to tell her a story."

The vermillion dragoness sighed letting out a puff of smoke, and she came to lie beside her sat upon a high peak overlooking a vast mountain range. Beside Ancalagon, the vermillion dragoness only came to his shoulder. The little dragon cradled in the arms of Ancalagon listened intently to his story of his sire. The king's voice swelled in pride at mention of Glaurung, as he watched the horizon fading away to night's embrace.

"My little princess, so small and fair," Ancalagon whispered sweetly, passing his nose over his daughter's tiny body. The little dragon princess was asleep cradled in the arms of her father. The queen of Ancalagon nudged her mate's shoulder, and he returned the nudge with his nose and a deep rumble that sounded like rolling thunder, "And my Bright-Scales, whose scales are brighter than the Star-Kindler herself."

~.~

Freya pulled out of the dream, feeling her heartstrings being played by sorrow's gentle hand. She felt her face with the back of her paw, feeling the remains of hot tears. She had cried; the daughter of Ancalagon was crying… She unfurled her wings, rising to the entrance of her Hold and stepping out into the pouring rain. The world was shadowed by a grey cloud and wept its tears upon the land, and Freya felt the cold seep into her scales. She needed to wash away her father's memory, even if she missed him. She shut her eyes, inhaling the scent of pine trees and earth once more.

"Father…" Freya whispered. "Why did Yavanna take you away from me?" Her eyes opened, with her head lowering. A fire had begun to ignite in her veins in a matter of seconds, and she cracked her tail to the beat of the rolling thunder. "Why, why were you taken? Why was I left with a mad lord?!" Her voice rose and she inhaled deeply before roaring into the air with her dragon fire sending a column of orange fire into the air. She shut her maw with tongues of flame licking her lips. "Damn the Valar!"

"I am sorry for your loss," An eagle stated sympathetically. Freya turned to the eagle, which was perched beside its mate. It bowed its white head to her, "We are sorry, Queen Freya."

Slowly, other creatures great and small bowed their heads to her. Many of the small creatures shook in physical terror at the sight of her, and then she understood why they did this. They did not pity her, but instead bowed to her because they did not desire her wrath. The only creatures that truly bowed to her were raptors and mountain lions; animals of predator nature. She stared at the quivering creatures, and she in turn bowed to them.

"You need not apologize to me, great creatures, I am but an outsider. I do not desire your respect, nor do I seek it." Freya told them. The deer lifted their heads with the stags hefting up their wide mantle of antlers along with the elk. "Leave me to my grief…"

A mountain lion let out a roar, a roar of pride. The eagles let out a screech, and the predators raised their voices in song; a song telling her to not give into darkness. She felt the shadow of her father lift off of her shoulders. The dragoness lifted her head, letting out a furious roar that rattled the cracks of ice in the North. Freya let out a rumble, knowing there were people, not of own kindred, that cared for her. She hoped that this trust would last until she became dust in the wind.

"_We are but tiny gears in the clock of the world,_" Freya thought as she felt the cold finally seep into her bones. _"The world will change when the clock of time strikes its end."_

* * *

Thorin held Cairn on one shoulder while the lord's sister sat on his other. The little female was smaller than Cairn, but spoke in his stead. The two began bickering at the other on either side of him and he swore he was going to kill both birds. Cairn, who had far more noble air about him, quickly took a turn for the worst when his sister started calling him names. Thorin glanced up at the female raven, giving her a stern look.

The female had long feathers that appeared like braids falling down to her puffed out chest. Her eyes were a dark brown and she had a wide collar of white that encircled her neck and tops of her shoulders. However, unlike Cairn, her black feathers were dull in the light, making her appear shadowy.

When his dark gaze fell on the female she shrunk back, bowed her head to her king before flying off. Cairn let out a sigh of defeat, shaking his head. "I apologize for my sister's behavior. I will fly to Belegost and warn the lady of Amren about his current state." Cairn stated as he rose into the air. Thorin gave the raven a short nod before turning back inside.

The king looked to Coruwen, who was standing before a tapestry of Smaug. She seemed bothered as of the past few weeks. Why she was this way, he knew not. He slightly tilted his head, watching her from a distance. Her thin fingers were knit together tightly to where they turned white. It made him inquisitive to why she was bothered, and he started towards her. There was a point in his life where he would have simply asked her what was wrong and it is only made her worry fester into anger. His mind began piecing together why she was in her current state of mind; he had been busy as of late and given little time to her, or maybe it was because Freya had left. The possibilities were truly endless. When he reached her side, he slipped one hand over her conjoined ones.

"I know you can sense my worry, love," Coruwen said softly. Her voice was slightly grim and sad, making him tighten his hand around hers to keep her still. Her blue eyes were dark with concern and they stared down at him. "Thorin-,"

His inner guilt was silently building, and he could not contain it. With a short, irritated breath, he spoke, "I am sorry." Coruwen inhaled a sharp breath, slightly shocked. He then began mentally berating himself for interrupting her. Her hands turned in his, gripping his own. She sat in a chair, with her gaze locked upon their hands. The way she shrunk back as if in fear made him kneel before her, but could not see her face for it covered by the shadow of her hair. Delicately, he brushed a few waves aside causing her gaze to meet his. "I am sorry for not paying attention to you as of late, but with Bard and his family disputes… It has left Dale in a bit of a panicked state. I should be more perceptive to you…"

"No," Coruwen whispered placing her hand on the side of his face. Her fingertips brushed against his cheekbone, tracing the side of his jaw, a gesture he often did to her when calming her. He found it strange that her fingertips were slightly roughened from the use of her bow, and it differed greatly from her normally soft skin. When her palm cupped his cheek, he turned his head placing a kiss on her palm. "You have done neither of those things. Why do you assume such ideas?"

"I can see in the worry in your eyes, Coruwen. Something is bothering you," He replied. The elleth's hand slid from his face onto his shoulder and her face became passive as if in thought. She shut her eyes for a brief moment, taking his hand. "What is wrong?"

"I do not know why you assume that you have been neglecting me…" She stated gently. Her hands clutched his tightly, and her voice cracked slightly under emotion. "For you are a wonderful husband, and I could have asked for no other. You are a king, one that is venerable in every way." She smiled down at him, a smile that made his heart give away. The love she had for him was gleaming in her eyes. He kissed the back of her hand, bowing his head to where he kissed her hand. "And in my heart, I know you will be a loving," He heard her let out a little laugh. "Father…"

His mind stopped dead in its tracks, and the same went for his heart. Had he heard her correctly? Did she say 'Father'? In his mind, it was saying it was impossible; there was no recorded history of such occurrences between the races. His heart said that it was very possible, and that his mind didn't know what it was talking about. He narrowed his eyes at her in slight confusion and suspicion. Thorin though she was playing with him, but her expression told him different. His queen's expression was one of fondness and great love. He stood from hi kneel standing slightly over her.

"Pardon?" He asked once his lungs allowed his words to be voiced.

Coruwen chuckled lightly. "I said, you would a make a loving father, Thorin."

He gripped her shoulders; he _still_ didn't believe her one bit. "Are you feeling all right? Are you sure you have not hit your head on anything?"

Coruwen laughed merrily, shaking her head. "Nay, I have not." His expression lifted and his mind came to the full realization of the matter. In his realization, he blinked in shock and removed his hands from her shoulders, coming to rest back at his sides. He looked to Coruwen, who nodded to him.

"You said it was impossible…" He muttered breathlessly. "There cannot be a life within you." Coruwen gave him a look of: I have proof that says otherwise. Gingerly, she took his wrist guiding along her stomach slightly above her hipline. He narrowed his eyes at his hand when he felt nothing for a few moments.

"Look within me, and you shall find the child."

"Coruwen-,"

"Do it," Her voice becoming firm instantly. He shut his eyes, searching his wife's spirit. Their spirits were not entwined; meaning his connection with her was strained. However, he did not need to be entwined with her to see the spark of a life dancing like sheer cloth in the wind around her spiritual form. He snapped open his eyes, feeling the life beneath his hand.

"You carry life," He breathed, and he took her face with both hands pressing a firm kiss on her lips. Joy filled his heart as he kissed her, and steadily his sudden burst of happiness dwindled down to soft kisses he pressed against her lips making her smile and laugh. He touched foreheads with her allowing him to look into her eyes that were looking down at the floor. "How long have you known about this?"

"A few weeks, Freya told me upon the day Iris' children were born… Apparently, I have been with child for about three months now." She replied. A smile came to her lips when he pressed his hands against her stomach once more. "I would have told you sooner, but with the way our lives run; it would have been simply lost in the sea of speech."

"I suppose so," He smiled faintly, letting out a chuckle. "How long do elves carry children typically?"

"A year…"

The tone of her voice seemed to be in regret, and he silently agreed with her. A common trait amongst Men and Dwarves was the amount of time they carried children. It was one of the few traits Aulë had given to their race, and was a secret blessing. He kissed her forehead softly, trying to consol her on the matter. He did not care if he had to wait a year or two; he was going to be a father.

"It will be fine, my dear." Thorin tipped her face up to his, searching her face that was slightly brightened by happiness. "What do you think it will be?"

"By Manwë, men are impatient creatures." She shook her head, "I do not know… Are you not tired of the boys? They drive us insane, would you not want a daughter?"

He chuckled, walking away from her a bit. "In all honesty, I do not care." Coruwen stared at him in confusion, as if he wasn't himself. "Our child will the first for both races and a first for the history of our races as well. No doubt the child will be blessed with immorality, no?"

Coruwen shrugged, "The line of Peredhil is when Elves and Men mate, and their fates become separate as times goes on. They typically are given a choice to either follow their elven kindred, or follow their mortal kindred. Dwarves are blessed with a far longer lifespan than Men, meaning the child could be either immortal like me, or have double or triple the normal lifespan of your people."

"That is troubling…" The king muttered to himself. "Are you saying that either could happen?"

"Easily, over time we will learn what will come." She stood and walked over to him with her hands resting upon his shoulders, sliding down to rest directly upon his beating heart. He leaned back into her, enjoying her presence. He heard her soft laugh and the feeling of her breath pass over his neck as she placed one kiss onto it. It made sparks dance across his skin. "I am relieved to see you happy, love." She said in a gentle voice.

"Why would I not?" Thorin replied giving her a faint smile. He tilted his head back, taking in her fair beauty. "It is a dream that I have sought after for years. Having you as my wife once but one dream fulfilled by Mahal, and he has granted me the second." He turned in her grip, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. "Through our love, life has been created."

"That it has," Thorin felt her fingers knit at the base of his neck, the cold of her ring sending cold shocks down his spine. The way he was holding her was reminiscent of the old years before they had ever thought about marrying, much less creating a family with the other. The days when they were struck down to the level of fools for love, and held great regret for doing so. Times had changed… "You're thinking about the days before this kingdom even standing tall…"

He blinked in shock, "How did you know?" He inquired, assessing his words carefully. She gave him a knowing smile, and he growled low. "Elves…"

Coruwen laughed, kissing his cheek. "Oh come now, you do not harbor hatred for _all_ elves. You do not hate me..."

"Yes, but you are different." He saw a look of feigned hurt in her eyes, and he sighed. "You are far different, my queen. You are the love of my life; therefore I will never hate you." Thorin's eyes fell upon the necklace of her mother that hung from her neck like a sapphire star. "It is the people like Thranduil that I still despise."

Coruwen passed a hand across his dark hair, and her fingers trailed down to the braids that rested upon his shoulders. Her nails dug into the silver clasp, making it start to slowly click open like the gears within a clock starting to turn. "I do not believe that," Coruwen said firmly. "You trusted Thranduil enough to allow him to stay a week longer in our kingdom-,"

"For your sake…" He interjected watching the clasp come free of his hair. He caught her hand that held the clasp. With one shift of his weight, he pushed her back to sit upon the chaise sofa where she sent him a small glare. He sighed in defeat when her fingers wound themselves into the braid she had freed the clasp from.

"Let me finish," She said in a slightly edgy voice, though it was quiet. "What I was saying is that you are beginning to trust him. For what series of reasons, I know not. Most likely because he is one of the few that still treats me as an elf rather than some blood traitor."

"Your people are ungodly confusing."

"I will say this," She halted her fingers, meeting his eyes. "For a long while I did not understand your people either. With any luck, we will be able to patch the races back together."

"Through the use of our child?" She nodded, "That could be potentially dangerous." Coruwen laughed at his sarcasm, and he saw she was truly happy now as she had stated. It made his heart lighten to see her happy once more, just as she was pleased to see him happy. He would not deny that he had not been himself as of late because of matters outside of his jurisdiction. It took this sort of news to drag him out of that strange cloud of depression and constant irritation. "Do you think we should tell the boys and Dís now?"

"If not, we will get chewed out," Coruwen freed the second braid free of its clasp, and he settled beside her before she started running her fingers through his hair. Her fingers graced the back of his neck, drawing the small section of hair forward. "Do you want to fetch them, or shall I?"

Thorin stood, answering her question. He departed the room quietly and reappeared with only Fili and Dís. Coruwen narrowed her eyes at the sight of Kili not being present. Thorin sat beside her with one arm encircling the curve in between her hip and waist. Fili stood beside Dís, who sat in a chair observing the two curiously. Coruwen looked to Thorin before speaking.

"Where is the little wolf?" Coruwen asked, her voice rising in curiosity. Fili looked at his aunt, who was surprisingly happy and bright. Her sky blue eyes were bright with a strange love that made him internally curious.

"Sleeping," Dís replied, Fili placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Why have you called us in here? Is something the matter?" The concern of the issue was clear upon Dís' face, and her topaz eyes were dark with concern.

Fili watched as his uncle's grip around Coruwen tightened protectively. "It has recently been brought to our attention of a matter that is of the utmost importance. As you know all ready, dwarves and elves despise the other and it has caused our histories to become clouded. As of late, a conclusion has arisen." Coruwen stated. Fili's mind knew of the conclusion by the way her voice became slightly lighter in tone and a faint smile creased her fair face.

"No, you're kidding," Dís whispered, shaking her head. His mother had a smile on her face, and she rose from her chair walking up to Thorin and Coruwen. Fili lingered behind watching as his mother took Coruwen's shoulders. "That is most wonderful, sister…" Dís glanced back at him and he stiffened beneath his mother's gaze. She gave him a smile, motioning for him to wander over. Fili walked over to Thorin's side, placing a hand upon his uncle's shoulder.

"Uncle," Fili said quietly, causing Thorin's dark blue eyes to flick up from his sister. Pride was evident in his uncle's eyes, a pride that was greater than any creature that walked this earth, and there was love… A strong love that Fili had never seen before. Thorin abandoned Coruwen's side and Fili followed him out onto the balcony. His uncle leaned upon the stone rail, looking out to the dwindling sun and rising moon.

"Fili, you seem unsettled," Thorin stated. "Is something bothering you?"

Fili mentally chastised himself for being so easy to read, or maybe it was because Thorin had known him all of his life. He was a tad bothered about the statement made by his aunt. He leaned against the rail, looking at Thorin through the wisps of hair that fell in his eyes.

"Uncle, I am beyond happy for you and auntie, but what will it mean for Kili and I?" Fili inquired with a tone of forced happiness. Thorin gave him a firm look, startling him. He felt small as his uncle's gaze grew darker like a storm cloud. "I am in no way jealous, just curious. Kili would be the one to turn jealous."

Thorin took a mental step back, and he spoke, "Nothing will happen, unless your brother does not desire to take up the throne after you and I pass. My child will not surpass you."

"Interesting," Fili smiled. "That'll please Kili."

"You are happy then?"

Fili chuckled, "Of course, I am going to be getting a cousin in a short while." Fili returned inside to sit beside Coruwen. He truly was not the jealous one between him and Kili, but Kili was indeed jealous and suspected Coruwen's odd behavior attributed to this very situation. Deep within himself, he was truly happy for he was gaining a cousin soon, and it was slowly surfacing as he listened to Coruwen tell him about how Freya had been the one to bring it to her attention.

"Is there anything to feel, or is it just a pulse?" Fili asked looking up at his aunt. Coruwen tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she gestured for him to take her hand. Hesitantly, he gave her his hand, which she turned over onto her stomach. He shook his head for he felt nothing move. He remembered being little and being interested in the life growing inside of his mother, but Coruwen's child was still too young. He was excited for it would be further along, because the memories of life before Kili were very blurry.

"It most likely will not show itself until seven or eight months…" Coruwen muttered as he withdrew his hand. Fili didn't understand, seven or eight months were quite far along. He gave her a puzzled look. Coruwen giggled stroking his hairline in the formation of a c, moving aside his hair. "Elves hold their child for a year."

"Oh…" Fili murmured. "Will it-?"

"Drive me insane? Most likely, since it is quite a short trip for someone like myself." Coruwen jested knitting her fingers together. Her voice dropped low for only him to hear. "Go, find you brother. I know he is hiding."

Fili gave her a nervous smile before darting off to find Kili. He found it unbelievable that Coruwen knew what was wrong with Kili, or at least where he was. He opened the door to his brother's room to find it dark in all corners excluding the fireplace that had flickering embers in it. He heard a groan, then a shift of covers.

"Fili?" Kili's groggy voice asked through the darkness. Fili maneuvered himself through the darkness, feeling from his brother's bed. His eyes weren't adjusting well at _all_. He felt like a blind man who had all of the furniture moved around in his home. His fingers found the fur blanket, and they pulled him over to the edge of the bed "So is she with child like I thought?"

"Yes, you green eyed monster," Fili snapped. He heard a scoff, and then a pillow sucker punched him. Fili rolled his eyes, throwing the pillow back. "Look, Kili, Uncle told me himself that the child won't surpass us. The child will be after we have long since passed on."

"Do not mother me," Kili replied in a half-tired, half-angry tone. "That child will change everything…"

"Kili, you're jealous because _you_ won't be the baby of the family anymore," Fili said, trying to keep his tone level for his brother's idiotic nature was getting to him. He gripped the blanket so tight his knuckles began to shake. "Kili, please, do not do this. This is supposed to be a good thing, and you're acting like a child."

"So what if I am?" Kili snorted. "Don't you have a problem with this?"

Fili growled. "No, I am happy for our family, and moreover, happy for our aunt and uncle, who have desired children of their own for a long time!"

He felt Kili's hand on his shoulder. "How do you know that? They never said anything openly."

Fili rung his hands once, trying to limber up his hands. He slowly came off of the anger filled rush that had surfaced in his blood. He let out a sigh, "When I would walk with Coruwen, she would look at small children with a certain sense of longing, and Thorin would become quiet."

He heard the thump and shake of the bed as Kili flopped back over, silently seething with anger. Fili prayed to Mahal that his brother would stop this stupid jealous behavior. He stood and left the room.

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**_A/N: I want you guys to know this, this chapter made laugh, cry, and made me all warm and fuzzy inside.. It know it sounds silly, but I did. I want to thank all of you who reviewed, and I hope to see you again! :) _**

**3insteinComplex: Concerning Thorin and Freya, yes they have and I feel like we've made huge steps with their trust; and I am also glad to hear that you love Freya. Plus, if they hated each other, it would be a bit hard for the other to communicate with the other.. Half-Elf and Half-Dwarf child will be interesting, and I will say that much because the rest is a surprise! **

**Teres: Birth Defects are quite disturbing.. I agree. Thank you, once again, for reviewing and I am super happy to hear that you liked that part of the plot! :) **

**Until next time, and Please review! **

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_Side Note: Concerning Elves- yes, their gestation period is a year, so states the notes made by Tolkien himself. And another little trivia piece, elflings mature faster than Men and Dwarves do; they are able to sing, dance, speak, walk, run, and do a whole list of things by the time they are a year old. _


	18. Chapter 18

**_Son of Storms_**

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-**2947-**

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_The screams of men mingled with the scent of smoke as the clouds churned with black smoke darker than the shadows. Brilliant red flame spat and hissed as the roar of a dragon was heard above the clouds as its shadow flew overhead. Everything burned with incandescence looming everywhere. Two forms lay over the other, motionless; with one had arrows protruding from the links in a hauberk of chainmail._

_From the flames that roared nearby, a pair of sky blue eyes stared out to the forces that churned like a whirlpool of black and red. The eyes were blue with hints of sapphire blue, and they were fierce with wrath. The eyes were suddenly shaded by a glimmer of white-silver steel that glimmered blue once before fading back its normal color. _

_And above the roar of the dragon, lightning whipped the earth and thunder rattled the roof of the world as blood flew from bodies like a rainstorm. The cries became muffled by the opponents blood choking their voices, and every once in a while thunder would peal over the plain followed by a dragon roar._

* * *

Coruwen's eyes snapped openand her heart danced in her chest with fright. Stands of gold feel into her eyes as she attempted to sit up, but a jab of pain shot down her back. Her stomach had grown in the past months, so much so that she could barely move without pain encircling her hips and lancing down her back. Dís had found that the very cause of this was the old scars that covered her hipline from the White Warg of Azog. Coruwen leaned back into Thorin, who was still asleep and had luckily, not heard her gasp in fright. Her husband's arm was firmly wrapped around her, just beneath her breasts. Upon his arm, she traced the outline of the scar he had received from Azog many, many years ago when Thror had been beheaded.

"_What was that?"_ She asked herself in a quiet voice. It seemed like a vision, a piece of foresight. Her eyes narrowed in thought, for she could not see into the future easily and her ability to the see pieces of the past was even poor. Her hand spread across her round stomach, feeling something was amiss. The child had been kicking her as of late, and this was the first instance of true rest she had obtained; though it was being interrupted by visions. It was beginning to bother her.

"Why are you awake?" Thorin's voice inquired, startling her. She glanced over her shoulder at him to see his eyes still shut, but his breathing had changed telling her he was awake. "You haven't slept in a long while."

"I-I had a vision," Coruwen said, truly not believing what she saw. She heard Thorin growl in slight frustration, but she sighed. Though in pain, she rolled onto her back and his arm slid off of her. Her mind was confused, oh so very confused. She felt Thorin's hand grace her hairline making her eyes shut in the gentle touch. "I believe it was our child… The _one_ day it doesn't decide to bother me, and then I get kept up by my damned curse!" Her voice slightly rising as she spoke. She admitted it, she was tired of being prohibited to her chambers like this; she wanted to help Thorin in whatever way she could right now with the last sighting of the Nazgûl being made upon their borders. In more recent times, Iris had given birth to Bain, their first son, and she could not help her with that.

Thorin hushed her when she started hissing out Sindarin curses along with a few mingled Khuzdul curses she had picked up from him and Dís. He rolled onto one elbow, hovering over his wife. She could see the gentle look in his eyes and she felt his wavy hair touch face. "Enough," He soothed in a calm voice, and kissed her forehead. "Not much longer remains, my heart. I have lasted longer than anticipated, but you must last as well."

She leaned up, kissing his nose lightly. His use of old nicknames made her smile and relieved her heart of some stress. Out of all of the nicknames he had chosen, she favored that one the most. She ran a hand across his chest, feeling his muscles become taut with her touch.

"Tell me, what did you see?" He lay back with her hand loosely intertwined with his. She desired him to go back to sleep, but she had learned that he was perceptive to her nowadays. If she surfaced for even a few minutes, he would also. She hesitated a great deal, unable to form words upon her tongue. "Coruwen?"

"A battle," Coruwen replied in a hushed voice. She shut her eyes picturing the fierce blue eyes that stared out of at the battle. The eyes seemed familiar to her, yet so very different. They were not her own, nor were they her husband's or Fili's. The eyes were that of someone possessed by rage with a bloodlust roaring in his veins. "A battle where a dragon had scorched the ground and amongst the thousands of people one slew one by one, choking out their life with thunder beating its drum to the screams of men and women." She throat constricted as she tried to picture the eyes that glared out from the flames. "There were eyes… Eyes of the purest light blue flecked with dark blue. And they were fierce like that of a dragon; they held anger, slowly sinking into the sea of sins as steel flashed with the lightening." She shivered, curling closer to her husband as if in fear. "I have never seen the future before, and I certainly do not wish to ever again."

"You told me once that foresight is never certain; it most likely was a vision from the past. You have received those before, have you not?" Coruwen nodded once. "Then it was that, and nothing more." He kissed her gold hair, then their conjoined hands. "Sleep, my dear. There is nothing to worry about."

Coruwen took his words into her mind, silently repeating them to herself as she watched Thorin drift back asleep. She leaned up, kissing his cheek; for without him she would have broken. She could not stay strong forever as Elrond had said a long time ago towards the beginning of the Third Age. She slipped out of the room without much trouble, but when she passed by the tapestry of Smaug, she collapsed upon the chaise sofa; a place where she had often been laying as of late. She placed a pillow on her low back, slightly reliving her of the pain that continuously grew worse and worse. She hadn't this much pain before, it slightly unnerved her but it quickly subsided when she shifted her hips to a more relaxed position.

"_This is going to drive me mad before the end,"_ Coruwen thought as her breathing became a bit strained. She pressed a hand on her stomach feeling her child shift within her. "Little one, why are you doing this to me?" As if in a dream like state, her head lolled back when the child ceased its movements and drifted off to sleep.

"Coruwen?" A voice asked through her dream like state. Coruwen opened her eyes staring up at both Dís and Merida. Merida was one of Dís' long time friends and a healer. She had mousy brown hair that was in one long plait down her back and she wore a dark dress. Dís sat beside her with one hand on her shoulder and concern etched in her face.

"Dís," Coruwen said tiredly with a weak smile. "What's wrong?"

Dís removed her hand, gripping her slender one. Dís swept back strands of Coruwen's hair that clung to her forehead. "You were screaming in your sleep… Is something wrong?" Dís inquired. Coruwen felt as if the breath in her lungs was stolen away as she attempted to sit up again. The same pain as earlier shot down her back making her grit her teeth. "Are you in pain?"

"A bit," Coruwen replied as she regained her breath. "Nothing…" She winced as the pain shot down her back again. "Nothing that I have not dealt with before."

Merida walked up to her, placing a hand on her stomach. "You're contracting, my lady." Merida said with a surprised voice. Coruwen stared at the healer in disbelief. Merida smiled. "Have you felt like this all morning?"

"I had a small vision this morning that seemed to start it off," Coruwen sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the sofa. She placed a hand on her low back, and it was then that she gasped in pain. "Maybe... Maybe Merida's right."

Dís grabbed her sister in law's hand, feeling her grip tighten to that of a vice and the bones in her hands cracked as the elleth's breathing became labored. "You should rest, sister." Dís soothed, clenching her jaw as the queen gripped her hand tightly. "We will prepare for the child," Dís glanced back at Merida, "Merida-,"

"I'll be back in a few minutes." The healer said quickly as she darted out of the room.

* * *

Thorin stared up at Iris, who greeted him before the gates of Dale with a child cradled in her arms. The Lady of Dale was oddly bright with happiness despite having had her child a month early and having little sleep. Bard was of the same fashion when he appeared out of the gates. The guardsmen that attempted to follow them were cast off by Iris, stating they did not need accompanying.

"Thorin, it is good to see you," Bard greeted with a bow of his head. Thorin returned the gesture to which Iris smiled. "You have not seen our son, have you?" The pride in his voice was great and Thorin understood that pride, the pride of having a child that one could call their own. Thorin saw Iris kneel down before him sweeping back the white cloth to reveal a small child, small and frail with a chubby face and eyes shut tightly in sleep. The child was gifted with his father's dark brown hair, but his mother's fair complexion.

"He is handsome," Thorin stated quietly, fearing that if he spoke in a louder voice the child would awaken. Iris stood back at her lord's side as they all walked toward Esgaroth that had recently been pillaged by orcs and Nazgûl and some of it had gotten burned. The ruins still smoldered and the grass burnt black. "It seems they attack when the world is quiet."

"That is what I believed as well," Bard agreed. "But the creatures, the Nazgûl, they attacked during dusk. They attacked once with their orc force, and then departed as if it were nothing." Bard let out a huff of irritation, shaking his head. "It seems rather unbelievable."

Thorin narrowed his eyes at Mirkwood, for he knew that the old fortress of Dol Guldur lay within its depths. Coruwen had stated that a shadow lay over Mirkwood, and he was beginning to see it. It was a like serpent, vile and staring at him with its fangs bared. "That it does," He replied in a low voice. "Have you spoken with the Elvenking about stopping the attacks?"

Bard snorted, "Tried, but failed. He is caught up in his own little world as of late. My words seem to go into one ear and out the other."

"I could always try speaking with him, though I do not know if the elf will come out alive or not," He heard Bard chuckle at the snide remark. He truly considered speaking with Thranduil for he had put aside some of the hatred between races for a spell. Coruwen had asked it of him several times before their union, but now he was honestly considering it. Freya had stated that if they could muster enough forces beneath one banner then the Nazgûl would be forced out of Mirkwood easily. It was convincing his people that it would be a minor task. The dark green tops of Mirkwood could be seen from the gates of Dale, and it seemed to be still. He glanced up at Bard, whose face was set into a stern expression.

"I wouldn't suppose Coruwen could persuade the Elvenking?" Iris offered, startling both king and lord. Thorin stared up at the Lady Iris in minor shock. Her hazel eyes were bright with thought and her lips slightly pursed in thought as well. She shifted weight from one hip to the other. "The Elvenking considers her a daughter, no?"

Thorin gave her a dip of his head in answer. "Yes, he does."

He did not enjoy speaking those words. He did not enjoy the relationship his wife had with that _elf_. The fact that the king had saved and caused injury to his wife made his blood boil. He had _forgotten _to forgive Thranduil for threatening him when Khamûl had attacked Coruwen many months back. Bard was looking at him with a semi-amused expression, to which he gave him a small glare when Iris turned away. The Lord of Dale chuckled and followed after Iris. In the back of his mind, Thorin felt something pulling at his attention as if something was amiss.

"_Leave me alone, later," _Thorin told himself as he hurried after Bard and Iris. The two stopped before the road that hugged the River Running leading to Esgaroth. It was heavily traveled, marred by the tracks of wagons and imprints of horse hooves. The Lady Iris took her leave of both king and lord, walking back to Dale and out of sight. He heard a heavy sigh from Bard.

"What is the matter?" Thorin asked looking up to the Lord. Bard held one long hand over his eyes with his brown hair falling over certain sections. Bard was clearly stricken. Firmly, Thorin spoke his name making the Descendent of Girion leap nearly out of his skin.

"I am terribly sorry, Thorin," Bard muttered playing with his leather gloves like a nervous child. He rubbed the heel of his boot into the ground as he flexed both hands. Thorin had never seen Bard uptight or nervous like this. It was as if the jovial, laidback man known as Bard had left this earth. "I-Its Iris," He stuttered. "With Bain recently born, she has been getting little sleep and has become… Not herself, I am beginning to wonder if she is sick."

Thorin chuckled, "Your wife is fine, and she is merely a new mother, Bard. And _you_ are nothing short of a new father, who is simply becoming high-strung." Bard gave him a small glare and then a huff of irritation. "Do you not believe me?"

"No, no, I do," Bard replied meekly. "You are to be a father soon, are you not?"

Thorin's heart swelled with pride, nearly bursting at the seams, "Aye, very soon, indeed." Bard cocked his head to the side in curiosity and he circled him like a cat sizing up a mouse. It seemed as if the lord did not enjoy the calm presence Thorin possessed. "What have I done?"

"You seem awfully calm about this…" Bard answered in a suspicious tone. The lord appeared in his side vision with his hand resting upon the pommel of his blade. "Are you sure you do not have more children of your own?"

The king eyed the lord as if he had lost his mind. "I assure you, the child my wife carries is the only one that I have ever called my own." Bard halted, shifting his weight onto his heels. "Aside from the sons of my sister, whom I consider my sons."

"I trust your word, I am just… Surprised, is all," Bard told him. "As you said, I am a nervous wreck."

Thorin gripped the lord's elbow tightly, giving it a firm shake. Bard looked down at him with a bit of worry and sadness in his eyes. The lord had been through too many trials for one so young. After the trials of rebuilding his city, he married Iris, who was a handful as it was and then when he was truly happy with his lady carrying his children, they were brutally ripped from him by the Valar. The trials that Bard had faced, Thorin truly wished upon no man or dwarf. Bard's hand slowly brushed off the king's grip.

"You are simply nervous, Bard, descendent of Girion." Thorin looked to the forest that lay close to his home. He took a deep breath, quelling the negative thoughts that haunted his steps. From his lips, a sigh passed; one that he did not wish to voice. "I will send a raven to Thranduil and see what he believes our next course of action should be."

"Of course," The lord bowed to him. "And I will keep an eye on the forest for any sightings of the Nazgûl, and warn you ahead of time."

Thorin returned to Erebor's halls seeking out Cairn to send off to Mirkwood. Half way through his climb to the roost, Dwalin and Dori darted past him in a hurry. His mind questioned where they were running off to, but he shook it off. Upon entering the roost, the old thrush sang a song of welcome to the king. He bowed his head to the old thrush; it was the same thrush that had greeted him on his arrival in Erebor many years. He was surprised to still see the old bird fluttering around causing trouble. He saw Cairn on a wooden beam, watching a female raven from a distance.

"Cairn," Thorin said in a clear voice, drawing the raven's attention. The son of Röac unfurled his wings and flew down to Thorin's shoulder. "I have a task for you, my friend."

"No Ered Mithrin or Iron Hills," Cairn answered flatly. "My heart can't take anymore visits to the Hold of Queen Freya. And I certainly am not flying back to Dain."

"Did I interference anything about those places?" Thorin asked, holding back a playful smirk. Cairn puffed out his chest with his eyes narrowing. "I only tease..."

"Your wife is getting to you." Cairn said humorlessly. "Now, where am I going? Seeing as you like sending me off to places where I could get my wings clipped off or get incinerated by a furnace with wings."

"I am sending you to Mirkwood."

Cairn's amber eyes became wide, "Oh no!" He flew up onto his wooden beam with his shoulders hunched to make himself look menacing. "I am _not_, and I repeat, _not_, going to that spider invested, foul smelling, dark, damp, and possibly murderous, forest."

"It's not that bad," The raven snorted, and Thorin shook his head. Sadly Cairn was right about Mirkwood, it surely didn't earn that name for simply being dark. He started thinking of ways to persuade Cairn into going. He thought of letting Kili pluck his feathers for his arrows, but then the lord would be quite cross. "Cairn, it is either you or your father, and the latter can barely speak, much less fly. You are a diplomatic raven, and could barter with the Elvenking."

"You do not possess a silver tongue, my king." Cairn snapped. "And I am still not going."

Thorin's eyes flicked over to the small female raven Cairn had been eyeing a while ago. She was small with yellow-green eyes bright like lanterns and her feathers were ebony and sent an array of colors across her plumage whenever the sun graced her. He looked to the female, letting out a whistle for her. The female flew over to him, and landed on his forearm.

"What is your name, my lady raven?" Thorin asked stroking her small head. The raveness' eyes glittered happily and she nuzzled his hand.

"Gealach, my king," Gealach addressed with a bow of her head. Her voice was calm, but warm. "Tis the name for the moon in the tongue of the ravens from Ered Mithrin."

"A beautiful name, my lady." He raised his voice a bit so Cairn could hear. "What would you say to flying to Mirkwood?"

Cairn's head snapped backward with his eyes narrowed. Gealach bobbed up and down a bit in thought. She hummed, "I would not be against it, but I overheard you giving it to Lord Cairn. Does he not desire to fly to the forest?"

"No!" Cairn shouted, flying onto the king's shoulder. "I-I will do it, Gealach. No need for you to leave the roost to a _nasty_ forest." Gealach chirped once, and flew back to her place on a beam. Cairn glared at Thorin, who simply gave him an innocent look as if nothing had happened. "I don't like you very much right now."

"That's fine," Thorin replied. "You just need to fly to Mirkwood, as I asked."

Cairn snorted. "If I do and I come back, that raveness stays out of our disputes, Thorin, son of Thrain." Thorin bowed his head to Cairn as he flew off. He departed the roost and when he came down to the highest level in Erebor, he was nearly knocked over by Ori with Dori behind him. He glared, sighing.

"Ori, Dori, to me," Thorin said shortly causing the chronicler to stop short with Dori bumping into him. Ori cast an innocent look over his shoulder and Dori started pushing on him to move. "_Where_ in the world, are you two going?"

"Going?" Ori asked, shaking his head. "We're not going anywhere! Where did you get that silly idea?"

There was a certain quiver in Ori's voice that sounded like nervousness. He raised an eyebrow to the chronicler, who let out a squeak. Dori quickly intervened shooing Ori off. There was little to no curiosity spiking emotion in Dori's appearance to Thorin's eyes.

"Dori… What has everyone running around?" Thorin inquired in a tone of dead seriousness. He was starting to become curious, and when people didn't tell him what was happening his temper started to dwindle. His eyes narrowed causing Dori to let out a squeak similar to that of his brother. Shortly, he growled, "Dori."

"Uh, nothing, I swear," Dori lied. He knew Dori a bit too well for him to believe that little trick. The dwarf began to play with his sleeve beneath the king's harsh gaze. "It's nothing, Thorin. Honest."

"You're lying," Thorin touched Orcrist's hilt, and it gently unsheathed it with his thumb. Dori darted off before he could speak again. The king sighed shortly, his temper getting the slight better of him. He felt hollow somehow; a piece of him had disappeared. His connection with his wife was barely noticeable anymore, and it caused his negative emotions to flare. Coruwen carrying their child was a gift, but it was the same time torture for him. She let him touch her as much as he desired, but was the feeling of her spirit entwining with his that he loved. The spiritual connection was almost surreal to him, it made him feel her anywhere and speak with her should they be parted for long periods of time. In truth, it sounded greedy that this was torture for him, but it was sadly true. He loved her; he always told himself this and told her as much as he could. It sometimes became as if the words were empty, holding no meaning whatsoever. Thinking of her made him mentally smile; his beloved jewel.

"Uncle!" Two voices shouted. Thorin glanced down from a walkway and saw Kili and Fili staring up at him with concern in their features. Kili spoke first, "Come here!"

"Why?" Thorin replied. Kili looked to Fili, who sighed. "Boys, what is wrong?"

Fili took a step forward, "Merida is looking for you," Fili stated. Thorin's heart jolted a bit in his chest, "Says something is important."

"Where is she?" The king asked.

"Throne room," Kili replied flatly. Thorin whirled around, following where the boys had told him Merida was. He entered the throne room to see Balin speaking with Merida, who had slight panic in her eyes. The mousy haired healer gave Balin a faint smile before walking around him to Thorin. She seemed stressed, and her eyes seemed to try to speak to him.

"Merida, what is wrong?" The king asked. Merida tried to speak, but nothing came forward just a small noise. She fidgeted in her place, unable to look him in the eyes. His concern and irritation bloomed. "Merida…" He snapped making the woman flinch. "Speak, what is wrong?"

"The queen has given birth, my king," Merida squeaked out. Thorin's irritation came down and he took a mentally step back. He let out a relived sigh, bowing his head a bit. "We've been looking for you about two hours. Where did you run off to?"

"Dale, I had some things to speak with Bard about," Thorin replied. "Go, I need to see her." Merida bowed, and walked off to their chambers. "How long ago did the child come?"

"Not too long ago." Dís' voice told him from her place as she stood in the doorway. He looked to his sister, who gave him a smile. She walked up to him, gripping his shoulders. "Go on, she's barely awake right now. It took more out of her than we thought. Merida will return in a bit."

"Dís, you-," He stopped, knowing that if he spoke she would chastise him. Dís chuckled and walked out of the room with Merida. He opened the door their bedroom finding it was lit by soft, gold candlelight which cast soft gold shadows dancing around the room. He heard a small cough, drawing his attention to his bed were Coruwen lay somewhat upright with her long hair tumbling down her shoulders with the candles darkening the gold of her hair. Her face was pale and the hair that lay upon her forehead was soaked, clinging to her skin. Thorin walked over to her, resting his hand upon her slender one. Two blue eyes opened, looking down at him tiredly. Her breathing was shallow, but she managed a weak smile. He gently brushed some of her hair behind her ear making her laugh quietly. Gently, he sat beside her with her hand still resting in his.

"I apologize for being late, my dear," He whispered, kissing the back of her hand. "I should have never left you." Coruwen's face contorted in pain when she pulled herself up to a more comfortable position.

"No, I was fine," Coruwen replied gently, her fingers brushing against his temple. "I did not wish for Merida and Dís to tell me if we had a son or daughter yet." Her voice cracked a bit from her earlier trial. Her soft, gentle voice was hoarse that made his heart flake a bit. She cleared her throat. "I wanted you to be here with me."

"Coruwen, you didn't have to-," He was cut off by her forefinger resting against his lips to silence him. Her blue eyes were bright with happiness, though it was slowly sinking away because her body was tired.

"I wanted you to be here with me because I love you, and you are the child's father." She stated. He leaned over, kissing her temple lightly making her laugh quietly. The sound of a door opening and closing made both look up to the door where Merida stood holding a bundle of cloth in her arms. "Merida, what is-?"

"You have a son, my king and queen," Merida said in a proud voice.

Thorin's heart and spirit became enlightened by pride and love. A son; a prince. The smile on Coruwen's face was enough to tell him that she was enlightened as well. He smiled faintly as the healer placed their son into Coruwen's arms. The elleth let out a huff of laughter and Thorin saw tears glisten in her eyes. He kissed her temple once more, and she nestled her face against his pulse allowing him to look down upon his child. The child was small with fair complexion and eyes shut tight in sleep. He saw Coruwen's hand reach up, brushing back the cloth a bit to reveal black hair, the dark hair of his line was very strong in the little one.

"He is beautiful, my love," He whispered into her hair.

"Here," Coruwen muttered gesturing for him to take their son. Her voice was becoming thick with tears of happiness as he took the small child. As he ran two fingers across the baby's black hair, his eyes opened startling Thorin a bit, for they were deep sky blue like his mother's and they were alert. One chubby hand stretched forward to which Thorin allowed his son to grab one of his fingers, and found his grip to be strong.

"His grip is strong," The king murmured unable to keep the pride out of his voice. "He is warrior by nature."

"Now you gloating rights," Coruwen teased leaning her head on his shoulder. He gingerly handed their son back to Coruwen, and the child slightly protested with a squeak. The queen smiled stroking the bridge of her child's nose and his eyes fluttered closed once more. "Little one needs a name…"

A name… He watched as Coruwen's eyes narrowed in thought. A question popped into his head in a split second; one of curiosity. He kissed her head once more before speaking. "What is the naming process of your people?" He asked causing Coruwen smile.

"The father gives the child their first name when they are born. Then the mother gives them a name when they are out of their majority, and the final name they typically go on the rest of their lives with is one they choose," She told him. "My father name is Araniel, and my mother name is Malfinniel, but I was chose Coruwen as an epesse."

He shook his head, finding that process to be too hard to follow and would possibly confuse a great number of people; he included. Coruwen looked up at him, clearly reading his thoughts. "That is far too confusing."

"I thought as much," She agreed. She twirled their son's dark hair with lean fingers and then she clicked her tongue making the child open his eyes. She smiled thoughtfully, "Odin."

Thorin's mind halted in its tracks, thinking of what Odin meant. It was an ancient name, quite possibly from the first generation of his language. It was a name belonging to kings and royals. "Allfather?" He inquired, testing the name. "It is a name for kings."

"And what is he, my love?" She glanced up at him with slight reprimand in her blue eyes. "He is, after all, the son of a king. Why not give him a name befitting the title he will one day receive?"

"I am not judging you." He muttered. "I was just… surprised."

Coruwen's laugh came to his ears making him look down at her quizzically. She took the side of his face with one hand with her fingers gracing his jaw. "Do you not like it?" she asked slowly. "We can always change it…"

"No," He kissed her lips softly. "I love it, my queen." He looked down at his son, his little Odin. The future king of these halls, the king that would succeed Kili and Fili, and the greatest treasure he had ever obtained. He stroked Odin's little face with the back of his hand and he could help but smile at the sight of the child. He heard the opening and closing of a door once more making him look up to see Fili, Kili, and Dís.

Dís smiled, shooing her eldest into the room with a gentle push of her hand. Fili shot a small, half hearted glare back at his mother, who simply waved at him innocently. He froze when he saw Coruwen and Thorin. He quietly picked himself up, hoping to not stir the child that rested in his aunt's arms. He looked to Thorin first, who gave him a short nod.

"Little lion," Coruwen said quietly as he came to sit at her side. He poked his head over the side of her shoulder to see a small baby with black hair and alert blue eyes staring up at his mother. This was his new cousin, and he was left speechless. "This is Odin, your new cousin."

"Odin," Fili repeated testing the name as if it were foreign. She handed Odin to him, who he accepted without being startled. Holding ones smaller than him was a second nature; after all he had Kili to hold when he was quite little. Odin yawned big, shutting his sky blue eyes tight. "By Mahal, He's cute."

"He is quiet," Dís remarked from the door with Kili slowly slinking into the room like a cat, "Awfully quiet for one of our kind, at the very least. I heard you named him Odin?"

"Yes," Coruwen replied. Fili felt Kili's head on his shoulder and his brother stared down at Odin curiously, as if he were an alien. Fili wanted to shove Kili for that since his brother had been rather jealous of their cousin for the past few months. Now it seemed he had magically gotten over it.

"Strange, Thror is another variation of Odin," Dís stated. "But I think it fits the little one."

"Yeah," Fili muttered looking up from Odin's sleeping face to his aunt and uncle, both of whom were radiating pride like a brilliant aura. He looked to Coruwen, who was smiling sweetly down at him as if she sensed his love for his cousin. "Here, Kili."

Kili's gold eyes became dark with concern as Fili handed Odin to him. Now, Kili had never handled children before aside from Sol, but she was quite a bit older than this little one. Fili traded spots with him as Coruwen slowly showed his brother how to hold Odin. A small smile came to Kili's face when Odin let out a small noise of happiness. Fili could not help but smile, for his brother was getting over his jealousy.

"Please tell me you aren't going to be jealous of someone so small?" Fili said. Kili looked up with bewilderment on his face and then he shook his head. "Good, I was getting tired of you being jealous."

"I can go back, you know," Kili hissed. Fili smirked at his brother's seriousness. He walked up to him, patting his head softly. "I am not a dog."

"Yes, you are, silly Kili," Dís laughed.

"Amad…" Kili sighed in defeat. "I'm outnumbered, again."

Coruwen smiled, passing a hand across his hair, to which Fili saw a darkness pass in his brother's eyes. His aunt could get away with a lot more than he ever could with Kili. "You are my little wolf, Kili. Thus, you are a dog in a way." Coruwen teased. Kili bumped his head into Coruwen's shoulder and she chuckled. "We will forever be the one who gets teased."

"I'll take that, I suppose," Kili mumbled. He handed Odin back to Coruwen and she laid the baby's head against her chest, feeling her son's soft breathing. Her fingers ran through Odin's black hair once watching it lay back down perfectly. She smiled softly as the feeling Kili's head resting upon her shoulder.

"Boys, with me," Dís said shortly At the sound of their mother's voice, the boys left the room leaving Coruwen and Thorin with their son. Coruwen kissed the top of Odin's head feeling relieved.

"I love you," She whispered as she leaned her head into her husband's chest. Thorin's dark blue gaze was fond as he kissed her forehead.

"I love you too, my dear." Thorin replied as he stroked Odin's head. "And I love our son, our little Odin."

* * *

**A/N: I know i did a huge jump, but I needed to do it. Anyway, we are seriously getting into the good parts of the story now, or once we reach certain years. I actually found out that little tid-bit about Thror from spending three hours on the internet; sneaky, sneaky man Tolkien was. **

**Thank you _Angel of the Night Watchers_ for the review! :) Your wish has been granted! **

**Until next time, and Please review! **

_P.S: If you guys find any "Easter Eggs" in the chapter, I will give you guys shout-outs. _


	19. Chapter 19

_**A Child's Heart**_

* * *

_-_**2947- **

_-Several Months Later-_

* * *

"Are you sure you can handle him?" Coruwen asked with uneasiness in her voice. Fili gave his aunt a sure nod, having full confidence in his capabilities in watching his young cousin. Coruwen gave him a smile, passing a hand across his blonde hair. She was returning to her position as queen, and she now wore a dress of white with the diadem Thranduil had given her resting upon her head. "If you are sure about this, then I leave Odin in your care, my lion."

"How bad can he be? He can't be worse than Kili," Fili laughed. Coruwen let out a small merry laugh before turning to grab the Dragon Blade that lay against the side of the door. She passed out of sight making him glance over his shoulder at Odin, who was curled up asleep with a fur blanket over him. Thorin had brought Odin out of his room and placed him within Fili's line of sight earlier before he left to a meeting. He did not know how sensitive Odin's hearing was, so in an attempt to be quiet he sat in a chair far enough away to see Odin, but not disturb him.

Fili smiled at his sleeping cousin, who had grown in the short span of eleven months. His hair was thicker and ever so slightly wavy and his bright blue eyes alert, just as they were the day he was born. He had started speaking bit by bit, picking up people's names that were close to him. He was also walking, though still preferred to be picked up. Fili leaned on the heel of his hand with his fingers tapping his temple. Odin was different from most children; maybe it was the elf in him.

The heir felt eyes on him making his gaze flick over to Odin, whose blue eyes stared up at him curiously. He blinked in shock at first, and then rose to greet Odin. Upon kneeling before him, his cousin covered his head with the blanket.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Fili asked with a small smirk. He heard a groan, to which he couldn't help but laugh. "Do not make me come and get you." He sat on the edge of the sofa, gently hooking his fingers around the top of the blanket, prying from Odin's grip. Odin had a grin on his face and he leapt at Fili, slightly making him bob back as Odin giggled.

"Fili," Odin laughed as he pulled back with his little hands resting on Fili's shoulders. Fili gave him a smile before the child hugged his neck tightly. "I miss you."

"I don't wander very far," Fili replied. "Where do you think I go?"

Odin sat in his lap, playing with Fili's coat in thought. His eyes were narrowed and his lips pursed as his mind pieced together thoughts. His passed a hand across Odin's black hair, feeling as if he had given his cousin a question far too large for him to take on.

"Odin," Fili started.

"No," Odin grumbled underneath his breath. He let out a breath, "I don't know…"

Fili picked him up and he let out a squeak of surprise. "Come on, your aunt is looking for you and I." Odin's eyes brightened up at the sound of Dís. The two left the corridor in search of Dís. On their way, Odin randomly flailed in Fili's grip like he was holding onto the head of an anxious horse. Fili underestimated his cousin's strength as one little hand pushed against his face. "Hey, stop it!"

"Down," Odin demanded as if he turned one blue eye back at Fili. His eyes were dark and full of a stubborn fire. The look Fili was receiving was oddly identical to Thorin when he was irritated. It made Fili get shivers down his spine. "Fili…"

"Try nicely, Odin," Fili said in a gentle voice.

"Down, please," Odin reiterated, and with those words the little one was on the ground standing shakily on his legs in search of something in the far corner of the hallway. In his mind, he was telling himself what he had told his aunt: how bad could he be? He answered himself by saying that he was the son of the two most stubborn people in the whole kingdom. The child had stubborn down from the moment he was able to decide and speak. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Coruwen watched the light flicker off of the grey stone as she listened to the sound of Ori flip through old pages of a tome that depicted pictures of Dwarrowdelf when it was in its prime. Balin had left the subject alone for many months, but she was still intrigued by it. She looked down at Ori, who was hurriedly flipping through the pages of the same book. His face was etched with stress and it was clear in his brown eyes when he glanced up at her. She could feel her husband nearby along with Balin and Dís, all of whom were discussing something she could not hear.

"You know, I'm surprised you even care about the old settlement. Most forgot about it when our race fled from it," Ori stated tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. "Dwarrowdelf was one of the worst and greatest accomplishments that ever happened to us."

"Hadhodrond was from what you and Balin have told me," Coruwen agreed with a faint smile. Ori gave her a puzzled look to which she received often from the dwarves when she said a name in elven, "Hadhodrond in another name for Dwarrowdelf."

"Oh," Ori muttered shutting the book. He gathered the books into a knapsack neatly before slinging the strap over his shoulder. "Does the king know about this?" Coruwen heard a slight nervousness in his voice as if he did not wish Thorin's anger upon him. The queen patted his head softly and he blushed a bit. "Our secret then…"

"Yes," Coruwen assured him. He walked down the steps, disappearing into a corridor that obscured her view of the young chronicler. She shut her eyes listening to the sound of the wind pass through the halls of her home and it mingled with the songs of a small thrush that fluttered along in the wind. Her eyes snapped open to reveal a small thrush, singing merrily into the wind as it approached her. "Little bird, what is it?"

The thrush landed before the steps of her throne, flapping its little wings and chirping after she spoke. It shook its head and ruffled its wings. Coruwen smiled gesturing for him to come up to her hand. With one little leap, it leapt to her finger and sang a little song for her.

"You don't say?" Coruwen laughed stroking the thrush with two fingers. "The Elvenking has been spotted on his way to our kingdom. That will anger Thorin a bit, but," She stood with the thrush leaping into the air once more. "He will have to work around that."

Coruwen and the thrush walked up the steps to the meeting hall where she slid through the small opening in the door, and then caught the attention of Thorin, who gave her an incline of his head in acknowledgment. Balin and Dís looked to her as well, both curious to why she had wandered in here.

"Is something wrong?" Dís asked.

Coruwen let the thrush land on her finger, and she spoke, "Thranduil has been spotted coming towards Erebor." She heard a chuckle come from her husband making her arch one eyebrow to him. "Thorin… What have you done?"

The king walked around the table coming to his wife's side, where he placed his hand over hers that rested upon the pommel of the Dragon Blade. She saw a mischievous glint in his eye as he passed her towards the main gate. Coruwen whirled around, following after him to find Grimbolt, still head of the Guards in his old age, standing in the gate's doorway with a scowl marring his wrinkled face.

"Grimbolt, let him through," Thorin ordered as the old guard stepped away. Before the gates stood a white horse tacked in light brown with Thranduil sitting astride the animal. The Elvenking had pride radiating from him like a great star. When Coruwen met his eyes, he gave her a warm smile before dismounting the white horse. The Elvenking had some courtesy and greeted Thorin before her, which she pleased her greatly for she did not desire to see her beloved angered at the actions of one of her kindred. When Thorin stepped away, Thranduil came forward to embrace her tightly. She admitted that she missed the company of the Elvenking.

"_Well met, my dear,"_ Thranduil whispered in her ear. He pulled away, but still gripped her shoulders in his lean hands. Coruwen smiled up at Thranduil placing one her hands upon his, and then he removed his hands.

"It is most good to see you, my king," Coruwen laughed. She felt a hand rest upon her low back, and her gaze flicked down to Thorin, who was starting to become protective. She reached back, placing her hand upon his in a slight gesture of comfort. "What brings you to Erebor?"

"A request," Thranduil replied smoothly, his green eyes falling upon Thorin. "A rather odd request, one I have not seen in all my years of ruling over the Greenwood. Your husband called for me."

Coruwen blinked in shock, glancing down at Thorin. Her king's face was passive showing no emotion before the ellon. It was typical of him to do this around Thranduil. He had his own pride to keep intact when in the presence of the Elvenking, and she sadly knew that the bond between elves and dwarves was still looming overhead. It was a never ending cycle of events all over a necklace that held great power. "I am surprised by that; why ever did he call for you?"

"Nazgûl," Thorin interjected. "They have been attacking Esgaroth, and I need to report back to Bard." He met her eyes, she saw that he was indeed serious about the matter; in fact it was bothering him. Khamûl had gotten underneath her beloved's skin and was continuing to bother him. "However with the recent events, I have been unable to contact either Thranduil or Bard."

"I am terribly sorry for not coming any sooner," Thranduil apologized with his voice truly sympathetic. She looked to the ellon, still speechless. "My King and Queen, I will give you all of the reports that have been given to me by my generals and Radagast. I will follow you."

"Right," Thorin agreed with a curt nod. Coruwen watched as Thorin departed her side and Thranduil exchanged a curious look with her. The king climbed a series of steps back towards the meeting hall and passed Dís. "Dís, could you find Fili and bring him to me."

"Oh no," Coruwen muttered under her breath as she felt an arm link with hers. Her blue eyes met the dark green ones of Thranduil. "I am surprised my husband is letting you enter these halls, Thranduil."

"All warriors have an Achilles Heel, my dearest," Thranduil replied in the same hushed tone. His voice was so foreign to her; she had once known the melodic voices of her people so well that it was almost nauseating. Now, she had gotten so used to the deep voices of the dwarves that hearing the tenor voice of Thranduil was like having a wave wash over your soul. She missed him, she missed this ellon. "Sadly, your husband's is either you or his people."

"Me?"

Thranduil chuckled. "Every man's bane is their heart, and when in love that heart walks outside of their body in physical form. You are the King under the Mountain's heart, and the same would have gone for my wife."

"Do not become gloomy on me, my lord." Coruwen gave him a stern glance and he smiled. "I missed you…"

"And I you, my dearest lady."

"You and my husband enjoy flattery, don't you?" The Elvenking and Coruwen climbed the steps, and behind them she heard footsteps that could have belonged to no dwarf. Behind them carrying a knapsack was a familiar face, but not as she had left him. It was Calenfaire, out of his Majority and a young warrior from his raiment. She halted in her steps, dragging Thranduil back a few steps. "Calenfaire?"

At the sound of his name, the ellon glanced up. His face was more chiseled and his cerulean eyes alert. He gave her a faint smile before hurrying up to the step she stood on. "Lady Queen," Calenfaire greeted with a bow of his head.

"I do not deserve such titles from you, my friend." She breathed stroking his face with one gentle hand. His voice had deepened to that of a gentle tenor, though not as deep as Thranduil's or Legolas'. "Come, we will exchange stories later. No doubt my husband grows impatient."

The three elves climbed the rest of the steps to the meeting hall where Coruwen saw something cradled against Thorin's chest. The king's gaze flicked up to hers and then motioned to Fili, who was standing at his uncle's side like a sentinel. The light blue eyes of her nephew were stern, border-line fierce. The dim sunlight that touched Fili's hair made it appear as if it were cast from the sun's very rays like a brilliant aura of golden and light blonde. She stepped into the room touching Fili's shoulder to calm him down, and then she leaned forward to observe Odin, who was asleep in his father's lap. Her little prince had his face buried into the wolf fur on his father's coat and had one hand balled into a fist in his slumber. Thorin had one hand wrapped around his son's hips holding him closer.

"Was he like this when you brought him?" Coruwen asked quietly. Fili glanced up at her, giving her a nod. As she looked at him, she saw he was tired. "You and your famous last words, my little lion."

"Be quiet," Fili quipped as he looked to Thranduil and Calenfaire. He started toward Calenfaire, helping the ellon with some of the maps and documents he carried. Coruwen tapped Thorin's shoulder drawing his attention upward to her. She motioned with her eyes if she needed to take him, and he shook his head.

"He will wake up," Coruwen said in a slightly taunting manner. The king growled and she smiled at his protectiveness. "Thorin, I know he will wake up when you start talking; he almost always does."

"Coruwen," Thorin replied in a slightly edgy voice, a sign she was supposed to be backing away. "Odin is fine, let it be."

"Alright," Coruwen agreed as she came to sit at his right hand and Thranduil across from her. The Elvenking started by tapping a small dot that stood in the southern regions of Mirkwood.

"Several Dunedain have spotted fell beasts flying in and out of Dol Guldur along with vicious screams. The few select scouts that do return are mortified, and typically run off into the night. Several of my kindred have gone off to protect the borders, and patrol them regularly for intruders." Thranduil sighed heavily as if in regret for some of his actions. "My people are wearing thin because of the rise of the spiders once more. They come in the night and strike with their poisoned fangs, dragging off many without a scream."

"I thought Bilbo destroyed the spiders when he went to Mirkwood with us," Coruwen thought aloud, rotating the jeweled pommel of the Dragon Blade beneath her hand. Thranduil covered his eyes with one slender hand, leaning back into the chair. "Am I wrong?"

"No, you are not, Lady Queen. The _perian_ did in fact kill off most of the spiders, but not all. Melkor's servant can just breed _more_." Thranduil said with mild irritation. Coruwen sighed under her breath.

"Thranduil, has there been any sighting of any Nazgûl outside of Mirkwood?" Thorin interrupted, he shifted the sleeping child in his arms. "Besides Khamûl, of course."

"The Witch-King's screams have been heard in the night," Thranduil returned as his voice became less and less irritated. "Khamûl is the right hand of Sauron while the Witch-King is the left. The Black Easterling knows these lands well, and his knowledge is a double edged sword. He plans on striking those who are weak and the ones who are weak are…" His sentence faded away as his features became solemn.

"Men," Coruwen finished. "Men are cursed with a strong desire for power, and if Khamûl can cripple enough of the cities of Men here in the East, then he will be able to strike here when we are weakest. Granted, Dain will come to our aid along with any others that deem fit. If Khamûl were to get his paws on the race of Lake-Men, we would be crippled."

"Lake-Men are descendants of the North-Men, who are different from Dunedain. The North-Men were fierce, almost barbaric." Calenfaire stated gravely. "Hence their strange language, or the language of the North."

"Exactly, kill off the veins that feed to the heart," Fili snorted. "That's great."

"Little Lion," Coruwen soothed touching her nephew's hand as he gripped the pommel of his sword in frustration. She could feel the muscles in his hand were taut with anger, so strong with anger that his knuckles were white. She heard him let out a frustrated breath before releasing his grip. "I have heard rumors that have come from the West, the Nazgûl are searching for something."

"The Ring," Thranduil replied, his tone dark. Coruwen's heart skipped in her chest at the sound of _that_. The One Ring of Sauron forged in secret in the earlier Ages. It clearly peaked the curiosity of Thorin, for his dark blue eyes were narrowed at Thranduil. "I know it seems impossible for Isildur lost it in the Anduin, but we believe it was found by something…Darker."

"A creature by the name of Gollum," Calenfaire stated, "Better known as Sméagol."

"I have heard of the creature," The queen muttered, silently piecing together memories from the past. When she saw Thranduil gesture to the Misty Mountains to the High Pass her heart about stopped in her chest once more. Her eyes narrowed as her nails dug into the thick fabric of her dress. It was not the Goblin King she had sensed all those years ago… No it was the Ring… "Damn it."

"What's wrong?" Thorin inquired looking up at her. He was trying to read the expression of his wife's face as she bit her lower lips in worry. "Coruwen…"

"It was not the goblins I sensed when we went through the High Pass, Thorin," She felt the breath escape her lungs and her throat tighten. "It was the Ring; I sensed that made me uneasy."

"I thought that was an elf's fear of mountains," He muttered. Coruwen shot him a dark look and he gave her a look of slight pity. "Why did you not say anything?"

Coruwen blinked in shock, "I had no idea Gollum lived under there, and much less knew he possessed the ring," Her voice was slowly climbing in anger at her husband's accusation.

"_Mell nîn," _Thranduil soothed in a low voice. The Elvenking's presence greatly calmed her blooming anger. _"_Not need for harshness…"

The queen took a breath, covering her eyes with one hand and she heard Thorin whisper a sentence to her in his mother language when Calenfaire started speaking to Thranduil in quick Sindarin that only she could decipher. The bits and pieces of Khuzdul she knew were used in the sentence, for he had used them before. The language of dwarves was not smooth like that of the elves, it was rough language. She looked up at Thorin, and saw him stroking Odin's hair with his free hand and glanced up at her in a sort of apologetic manner like that of a dog. In the pit of her stomach, she felt guilty for starting to be harsh with him.

"Lady Queen," Thranduil started causing her attention to fall on him. "I do believe you were associated with Radagast, were you not?"

"Aye, I was," She replied. "What of it?"

The Elvenking set a parcel down of the table, gently pushing it toward her. "The Istar told me to give this to you," Coruwen slid the package toward her feeling a wax symbol pressed into the folds of the wooden box. She had felt this seal before; a leaf was what her fingertips told her. Her eyes went wide with shock when her eyes fell on the wax leaf of Lórien, and her heart dropped out of her chest in despair. She let out a small curse under her breath before standing, taking the box, and leaving the hall to a secluded corridor where the light was dim.

Her lean fingers pried open the lid of the box to see a tri-folded letter with something beneath it. After lifting the letter out of the box and setting it aside. She found a long necklace formed of crystalline beads that were translucent and opaque with varying shades of grey and white. It was something she had made for Orophin when she was but a young elleth. She looked to the letter, almost unable to look at it, for her mind told her that it possibly was a bad omen. Her fingers found the wax seal and pried it free. When she looked at the handwriting, she knew it Rumil's, for his handwriting was bold faced and rather immature for a Marchwarden.

_Robin, _

_I know I have not written to you before since you were very, very little. And in all honesty, I should not even be writing this for Haldir is still rather apprehensive of you, but this needed to be told to you. Our family still loves you, even if you are in Erebor living with a king that is not of our kindred. I, for one, am happy for you and Orophin would be also…_

_Robin, don't be upset, but Orophin was traveling with General Gilion and Haldir… He was lost in battle, killed by an orc horde. We want you to be here for his funeral, but we understand if you can't make it; being queen and all. I've sent the necklace that you made for Orophin as a reminder that we love you, Robin. Haldir misses you, even if he does not want to admit it. I love you, my little robin, and Haldir misses his little nightingale. _

_-Rumil _

Coruwen felt tears slide down her cheeks as she gripped the letter with enough force to crack stone if she deemed so. The uncle that had loved her so was gone… Her Orophin, the one that always supported her, the one that was there for her when Haldir could not have been, was dead. She set the letter down before she ripped it in half, and it was then she brought her knees close to her chest and buried her face in the crook of them to muffle her shaky sobs. She cursed Mandos for having a cruel sense of humor.

She heard little footsteps on the stone floor making her gaze rise to her son, who was padding towards her. She could not stop the tears that slid down her face when Odin approached her.

"Nana?" Odin asked as if testing to see if was her. Coruwen reached for Odin, and he walked up to her watching her with his light blue eyes. The eyes that were ever changing, they had changed ever since he was born. They now were light blue like her eyes with flecks of dark blue, and the colors swirled together to make a color deeper than the great sea of Valinor. "What's wrong?"

"Nana is just upset, little one," Coruwen replied trying to subdue her sadness. She felt a little hand rest on her cheek and it was spread wide in an attempt to cover her cheek like he had seen Thorin do hundreds of times. When she looked at Odin, she saw her husband when he was gentle. "Ever you are your father's son, my Odin."

"What is making Nana upset?" Odin inquired as he settled himself in her lap with his little hand still resting upon her cheek. "Did Adad do something?"

"No, no Odin. One of your great uncles has passed away," She replied stroking his dark hair. He removed his hand, cocking his head to the side. She smiled at his growing curiosity, he was always inquisitive, but if she mentioned Haldir or Rumil or Orophin then his curiosity was truly peaked. With one shaky breath, she spoke, "He was an honorable man, and would have loved you, just as much as he loved me, maybe even more." A tear slipped from her eye as she spoke of Orophin. "He…He was a good man."

"Mama, please don't cry," Odin pleaded as Coruwen bowed her head to hide her feelings. "You always tell me not to cry…" His little hands took her face gently and he placed his forehead against hers. "I love you, Mama."

Coruwen gave her son a watery smile, kissing his forehead. "I love you too, Odin." The way he spoke made her heart swell with love and break at the same time. "Mama loves you, oh so very much."

Odin giggled, "I know."

Coruwen looked up at him with a sly smile on her lips. "Oh do you now?"

Odin nodded. "Yes, you tell me every day, just as you tell Adad. Because you love us both..." He threw his arms around her neck. "You love us more than all of the stars in the sky, and it is brighter than the Star-Kindler."

"Elbereth, little one."

"That," Odin's little voice was muffled by her gold hair as he buried his face into her hair and she leaned back against the wall, cradling her son against her chest. She had remembered when he was so small, unable to speak and only able to cry or make small noises. The blessing of her people was strong in Odin… "Mama?"

"Hmm?" She hummed. Odin plopped himself back into her lap with his hands playing with the long sleeves of her dress.

"Could we go see the pony?"

"Faenaur?" Odin nodded overzealously. She scooped up her son into her arms along with the box and made her way down to the main gate before setting Odin down. She whistled for Faenaur and it rang against the stone sentinels that stood before the gates of Erebor; the ones she had sat and spoken to many times in her life. The slight rap of metal shod feet against rock made her gaze flick over to her stallion, whose head was held high in pride and his lean body graceful. "Faenaur, say hello, gently."

The stallion brought his head down for Odin, who hugged Faenaur's nose with all of his might. The horse whinnied softly and when Odin released his grip, the horse nudged him softly. The prince giggled, patting Faenaur's nose gently, well as gently as any child could.

"Foe-na," Odin tried as he patted Faenaur's snout. "Mama, how do you say his name?"

"Fo-eh-nar," Coruwen corrected stroking the palomino's mane. He was starting to get signs of age, for his mane was getting dark strands of grey and his once cream muzzle was turning light blonde almost white with age. When Faenaur looked at her with his almond eyes, they contained less of the great stubborn fire that they once held. He was getting old… For even age effects elven steeds, the only difference was that they were faster than the normal horses ridden by Men.

"Faenaur," Odin repeated as he stroked the horse's nose. "Will I be able to ride him, Mama?" Her son looked to her for an answer, but she did not know how to answer for she did not know if he would be tall enough. She shrugged, and Odin pouted but continued to stroke Faenaur's cream forelock. "How old is he?"

"If I remember correctly, he is ten; he was gift from my cousins." Coruwen knelt and picked Odin up and gently settled her son onto the back of the horse. Odin was uneasy when she placed him onto the back of the stallion, but she held onto him firmly making sure Faenaur would not toss him. "He is getting to be old, for a horse."

"Poor Faenaur, he might end up like Grimy," Odin said patting the horse's back. Coruwen smirked when he said Grimbolt. Surely, Faenaur would be stubborn enough for an old man, but he was lacking the white hair of the elderly aside from his nose and mane.

"All right Odin, I need to let Faenaur go back to his herd. Come on," Coruwen said, and Odin clung to her. "_Faenaur, go on._"

The stallion whirled around in one graceful movement before galloping down the rocky slopes of Erebor. Odin waved to the horse until he disappeared out of sight, and it was then that the two returned back inside to sit on the steps of the meeting hall, knowing Odin would be a hindrance to others if he was allowed in there. He sat in her lap for a good portion of the time playing with her ring as she told the story of Smaug to Odin. When she spoke of dragons, Odin narrowed his eyes at her ring, spying the engraved dragon opening its maw before the diamond set into the ring.

"Adad has the same," She told him. "Has he ever told you of what I call him?"

"No," Odin replied simply leaning into her chest. "What do you call him, Mama?"

Coruwen stroked his black hair once. "You can't repeat it to your father, all right?"

"Ok,"

"I call him My Dragon, though he does not like it." Odin giggled and leapt off of her lap onto the step and clapped his hands for something. Coruwen stood and descended the steps toward a moving shadow that darted around each time Odin clapped. "Odin, what are you-?"

From the shadows, came a small wheat blonde puppy with a second, smaller, fawn colored puppy. The one colored wheat blonde had silver tips, and its tail was half silver with a black flashlight on the tip. The one colored fawn was greatly smaller and had rose shaped ears with a black tail flashlight like its companion.

"Dogs?" Coruwen mouthed as she looked at the pups. Odin sat on the ground letting them lick him vigorously. Odin laugh made her smile and then she glanced back at the sound of Thorin's voice come echoing out of the meeting hall. In fact, he was laughing. She chuckled at the sound and then turned to Odin, who was petting the pups on their heads. She had thoughts that Thorin might object to dogs since dwarves didn't take kindly to most creatures aside from the occasional pony. She knelt before the pups allowing them to sniff her hand and lick it.

"Can we keep them, Mama?" Odin asked with his light blue eyes pleading for her to keep them. The wheat blonde puppy was quite fond of Odin; in fact he could lick the boy head to toe if he let him. "Please?"

"It is not my recognition you need, my little one. It is your father's," She replied as she saw Thorin out of the corner of her eye. He was walking beside Fili, who was stepping rather lively down the steps to reach her side before his uncle. Coruwen stood from her kneel greeting her husband and eldest nephew.

Fili looked around her to the pups that were playing with Odin on the ground. Fili looked at the pups and then Coruwen. "Pups?" How in Mahal's name did they get up here?"

"I have no clue," Coruwen laughed as Odin held the wheaten pup's face with two hands. "Odin seems to be rather taken with them."

Thorin let out a huff, "No," He said firmly.

Odin stood, walking up to Thorin, and tugged on his coat with a small pout on his face. "Please Adad?" His son asked with his voice sheepish. Coruwen saw Thorin meet his son's eyes, and his were still firm. In her mind, she knew that Odin was just as stubborn as Thorin was, maybe more given the subject. Fili slid toward the pups and ruffled their heads in play. Her gaze fell back on Odin was still looking up at Thorin for an answer.

"I will think about it," The king replied. Odin smiled and released his father's coat to go play with the dogs again. Coruwen walked over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders and he sighed in relief. Coruwen leaned down and kissed his cheek lightly. When Fili and Odin wandered off to play with the dogs she felt him slip away from her and sit on the steps. "Why does Odin want a dog?"

"It would keep him company," She stated sitting in front of him. "He loves animals; I would let him have the pups." Thorin growled and placed his hands around her waist. "I will let you think about it, love."

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Coruwen watched Thorin out of her peripheral vision as she stitched gold thread into a tapestry that she had been working on for three months. When she took a breath, her lungs threatened her with a cough for Thorin was smoking his pipe. Something he had not done in a long time. She let out a small cough that she could not withhold, making him raise his gaze from the flickering flames of the fire to her. She cleared her throat to focus on her tapestry again.

"Are you all right?" Thorin asked blowing a smoke ring into the air. The two had not spoken since the run in with the two dogs since Coruwen wanted to leave him with his thoughts. He found it hard when she gave him cold looks and remained silent. Her little outburst earlier had also gotten to him when she had snapped a bit, but from there on she seemed rather… unsettled. The silence of the room was unbearable. "Coruwen, what did Thranduil give you?"

The elleth looked back at him with her eyes becoming sad. She turned away from him immediately as if she did not wish to tell him, but he knew her. The gift that Thranduil had given her was something concerning her people, or rather the people of Lothlórien. "It was nothing," She replied solemnly, "Nothing at all."

"I know more than you think, my heart," He said gently. He extinguished his pipe, letting the last bit of smoke escape his lips before walking over to her. Her hands had ceased stitching and rested in her lap. He took her hands in his, sitting beside her and kissed the back of her hands. "What did Thranduil give you?"

Coruwen hung her head and he heard a sob escape her. "My uncle… My Uncle Orophin was lost in a battle," She replied as tears fell from her cheeks and fell upon her dress. She shook her head a bit and her shoulders shook. "I cannot bring myself to face my father…"

"I am fairly certain he still loves you. What parent would turn their back on the child they love?" He tipped her face up to look at him and the glisten of the tears upon her cheeks caught the light of the room. He did not desire to ever see her cry, at least not in sadness. He hushed her, gently taking her face in his hands with his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. He removed his touch from her when the door creaked open to reveal Odin with one hand rubbing his eyes.

"Odin, what is wrong?" Coruwen asked when her voice was clear. Odin slinked into the room quietly and pulled himself into Thorin's lap. His son was unsettled by something for Odin buried his face into his father's neck. He held the boy close to him feeling his little body curl close to him.

"Odin," Thorin whispered stroking his back. He had never seen Odin unsettled like this before, for the child was relatively calm and composed for someone so young.

"I saw people… And a dragon," Odin mumbled. Thorin looked to Coruwen, whose brow was furrowed in thought as she listened to their son. "The people were running from the dragon." Odin pulled away from his father's shoulder with his light blue eyes dark with sadness. His little prince had seen something, and that something was the plight of Smaug the Golden. "People were getting burned and they screamed… They screamed so loud that it made my ears hurt."

Coruwen stroked his little head before returning to her stitching. Thorin held Odin close to him and stood softly humming a song to him to soothe the unsettled child. The song was one Dís had sung to the boys when they were very little. When away from her, he used to hum it to himself when everyone was asleep or he was alone. He had sung it with Coruwen once, but she ended up laughing half way through causing all attempts to be forfeit. In a very quiet voice, he sang to his son.

_Land of bear and Land of eagle_

_Land that gave us birth and blessing_

_Land that called us ever homewards_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home, we will go home We will go home, across the mountains._

_Hear our singing, Hear our longing, We will go home across the mountains…_

He felt Odin go limp in his arms to where he looked Coruwen, who was humming the song to herself. It pleased him to hear her sing once more. In fact, he had not heard her sing in a long while; he missed her voice greatly. When he set Odin down to sleep upon their bed, he returned to Coruwen to find her singing low to herself as she stitched together gold and light blue fabric.

"Is he asleep?" Coruwen asked looking up at him. Thorin nodded, walking up to her side. He sat beside her, which led to her leaning back into him with her eyes shut in contentment. "He is blessed with foresight…"

"Blessed? More like cursed," He replied in slight mockery of her people's 'blessing'.

"Thorin, it is a double edged sword, but this explains why I was having visions when I was carrying him," She stated gently. "No gift is given without consequence. Even that of king, you know this…" Her blue eyes peered back at him with a bit of sternness in them. He mentally agreed with her, but rested his chin on her shoulder. "Odin will learn to control it and it most likely will strike and inopportune moments in his life. We will just have to deal with it."

"Do you know how to control foresight?"

Coruwen sighed, "No, sadly, I do not. There are but two people one Middle-Earth that can help others understand it." He felt that one of those people was Gandalf, for the wizard knew more about the world than one should. He felt his wife's hand rest on his knee to which he shut his eyes as she continued. "Those people are Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond."

"And what good will they do us since you are shunned by your kindred?"

"My uncle's funeral is in a few weeks, if I were to speak to the Lady of Light, she might be able to help us."

"If you deem that speaking with her will help our son then do it," He internally was regretting all of those words, but this was his only son. Odin held a special place in his heart just as Coruwen did. "I do not wish to see him troubled any longer."

"Nor do I, my love. If I could fix everything in this world, I would have fixed the relations between our races and I would help foresight become more understandable." He watched her depart his side to their bedroom and he let out a heavy sigh for his heart was stressed and his mind frayed.

What do you do when you cannot help your child? He thought about how happy Odin was with those pups earlier and then thought of what Coruwen had said about Odin and animals. He was going to find those dogs sooner or later, because he felt that they could help his troubled son.

"Please let my assumption be correct," He whispered to himself before he followed Coruwen.

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**A/N: You guys didn't find my easter egg last chapter... Oh well, if you did and didn't post it, you still win a cookie. The pups that Odin found are two types of hounds, one is a Irish Wolfhound and the other is a Scottish Deerhound, both are wonderful dogs. I wrote Odin's foresight a bit earlier than expected, but I didn't have anything else to write.. Anyway, sorry for the lateness, I'm having minor idea forming issues right now**

_**Translation to Mell Nin: My Dear**_

_**The mention of the song that Thorin sang to Odin is a throw-back to the last Chapter of A Marchwarden's Daughter and there are few more little hints of that story in here as well. The song is called Song of Exile, better known from the movie "King Arthur". **_

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_**So, what do you guys wanna see?**_

_Thank you to Angel of the Night Watchers and 3insteinComplex for your reviews! You two are simply awesome; in fact all of you are awesome and thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and sticking with me through all this craziness._

**Until Next Time, and Please Review! **


	20. Chapter 20

_**Music Suggestion: Auriel's Ascension from Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion **_

_**The Golden Wood**_

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**-2947-**

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It had been a week since Coruwen had left Erebor to travel to Lothlórien alone. She had stated that she was going because it was formal for her to appear before her kindred. She hated leaving her son and husband, but she needed to see Orophin and her family with her own eyes and possibly make amends. Her gloved hands held the reins of Faenaur tightly as she came to a slow stop before the gates of Caras Galadhon with the ever towering mallorn trees standing tall with their golden leaves sending soft gold light flickering across the ground like a swimming sea of gold and pale yellow. The air here was clean, mixed with the scent of the cold winds that rushed down the slopes of the Misty Mountains. Her heart shuddered within her chest when she looked at the majesty of her old home, and nostalgia was playing a firm hand in all of the memories that flooded her.

Coruwen could not deny that she often dreamt of home with her father and uncles. That life was simpler, almost easy compared to the one she possessed now. She was a queen, a lady, and mostly a mother and wife. Though she did not carry the Life of the Eldar anymore, it still lingered in her ageless face and appearance. She dismounted Faenaur, feeling her boots crunch the old leaves beneath her feet as she looped her horse's reins around her right hand. Upon stopping before the gates, she heard a voice call down at her from on high. The voice belonged to an elleth and she sounded rather cross. She demanded to know who was approaching her gates this early in the morning.

"_Coruwen, Haldiriell," _Coruwen returned trying to keep her voice even. The steel rod gates cracked open allowing her inside, and he ears picked up a low song from the tops of the mallorn trees as she climbed the slope with Faenaur. The voice was tenor and full of great melancholy. She halted before the trunk of the grey mallorn tree, slightly feeling her soul pull towards the song. She knew that voice… Coruwen knew that voice anywhere, for it was the voice of a father; low and typically not meant for singing. "Ada…"

The song halted when her lips formed the words of her father and a flash of sliver-blonde passed in her vision along with a bit of storm grey. She took a step back, hiding within the confines of her cloak to hide from her father as he clambered down to her. The sound of light feet touching branches and dead leaves made her flick her gaze upward, and then her heart sank. Before her, stood Haldir dressed in the dark grey garb of the Galadhrim with his bow slung over his shoulder. His long hair was braided back on the sides starting at his temples and the rest fell down his back like a sheet of silver-blonde that deeply contrasted his dark grey cloak. His complexion was pale, in fact far paler than she would have expected from him. His face was chiseled with high cheekbones and stern quicksilver eyes that were ever watchful.

"What are you doing here?" Haldir asked firmly. She jumped at the firmness of his voice, lowering her gaze o the ground. She could not help it; though strong in the presence of the Dwarven race, but around people like her father she was more than an elfling again. She indeed felt like a child caught in between a rock and a hard place. "Araniel, _what_ are you doing here?"

"I came for Uncle Orophin, nothing more," Coruwen said quickly. Her blue eyes stared up at him through the brim of her hood, and she saw his eyes widen in mild shock. He was clearly not expecting her to speak to him like that. He sighed quietly, closing his eyes in irritation. "Rumil sent me a letter."

"I would have figured so," Haldir replied. "That is the last time I let him wander off with a piece of parchment…" The Marchwarden shook his head, sighing. "Fine, if you are here for him, then I will let you accompany me. The last ones for the funeral would have been Rumil and I, but seeing as you rode all the way here…" His gaze slightly softened. "And you were his niece; his _only_ niece."

"Thank you, Adar," She whispered as he started off towards a secluded grove in Lothlórien's vast overhanging trees nearest the Nimrodel. She spied Rumil in the grove, fingering his curved sword that hung from his hip with his face downcast, shadowed by his silver-blonde hair. Coruwen looked up at him, and he smiled. He was gifted with gentler features than that of Orophin and Haldir; in fact he was louder but kinder brother. If an elleth or ellon was troubled, Rumil typically was the least apprehensive of them. When she released Faenaur, Rumil looked up at her with slight surprise.

"Rumil, she isn't here for you to socialize with. She is here to pay respects, nothing more," Haldir snapped. Rumil's grey eyes became stern immediately and he glared at his older brother with great disdain. "Glare at me if you will… She is an outsider, a woman in exile-,"

"She is your daughter, and you love her!" Rumil retorted stepping in front of Coruwen. She grabbed her uncle's arm to stop him, but his grip was ripped from her. She felt her throat constrict when Haldir's dark gaze fell on Rumil. "You told me so yourself, and do not try and deny it!"

"Rumil, stop this nonsense," Haldir growled.

"No. I will not stand by and let you push her away anymore! Orophin was right; you cannot see through the blindness you created by pushing Coruwen away." The young ellon snapped. Haldir let out a short breath before walking forward to get away from Rumil, and Coruwen saw his shoulders were rolled back in a manner that suggested great anger. Haldir had always easily unsettled by Rumil, and this was only pushing his temper further and further away from the edge of calmness. In one short breath, Rumil looked down at her with his features softening when he gazed down at her. Her heart could not bear to see her family fight, but she could do nothing and words surely would not stop them. She felt Rumil's gloved hand take her own, and he smiled. "I see you got my letter then."

"Yes," She replied in a low tone. "I wish I was here upon lighter terms than this." She glanced past Rumil to see the back of her father, who was clearly speaking to Orophin's grave quietly enough to where she could not hear him. "Why is he like this?"

"Haldir?" Rumil sighed, shutting his eyes. "He has been this way since he found out your gave up the Life of the Eldar, robin. He knows now that you will never be able to return to Aman to live there. That was all he ever wanted, he wanted you to be happy."

"But I am," She shook her head, finding it hard to believe that her father had turned cold and bitter because of her. "I have a son, I have a husband that loves me, and I love him. I love what my life has become."

Rumil gave her a forced smile that was turning sad. His voice thickened with a sudden burst of emotion. "Robin, you were the light of Haldir's life. He wanted you to live forever with one our kindred rather than the race that we do not get along with. You see, Haldir and I cannot go across the sea as many of our kindred do. We have sworn to protect this land of Middle-Earth, and now we can never leave. It is a pledge that was placed upon us when took the title of Marchwarden. And the same goes for many of Thranduil's people."

"You are saying that all he was wanted was for me to go where he could not?"

"Yes," Rumil stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. "You were his nightingale from the day we met you. All he ever wanted was to see you happy, as I said before."

"What if I showed him that I was happy?"

"Well, you surely could try. Haldir is stubborn you know."

Coruwen smiled, "I know. Where do you think I learned it from? I surely did not learn it from you, uncle."

Rumil pondered that statement, "I do not know if I should be happy or upset…"

Coruwen held back a laugh, for his dumbstruck expression brought laughs from the recesses of her lungs. When the laughter died down, she stepped forward towards the grave of her uncle standing beside her father, who was kneeling down before the grave. Upon the grave, lay small flowers, ones of purest white and bright yellow. From beneath her cloak, she withdrew the necklace that Rumil had sent with the note a week ago to Erebor. It made her heart tighten in sorrow for the loss of Orophin, and it was then that one tear slipped from her eye as she settled the necklace around the headstone. It was finely made and crafted to catch the light of the sun and moon that lit the world with their grace, but in the middle of the finely polished stone was an engraved lark sitting upon a sapling. She let out a shaky breath before turning away from the picture entirely, unable to believe that Orophin was truly gone. In her heart, she wanted to cry for his loss, but knew it would bring her no comfort.

"Haldir, I'm heading back before Gilion jumps my cage," Rumil stated as he brushed back the long wisps of a willow tree. Coruwen looked up at Rumil, catching the happy glint in his grey eyes before he disappeared.

There was a long silence as Coruwen leaned up against the trunk of a willow tree, knitting her lean fingers together to help soothe her troubled heart that shuddered within her chest. She removed her hood from around her head, letting her hair free of its confinements in between her cloak and dress. She took a breath again, feeling her whole chest shudder with grief. Tears blurred her vision as she looked up at the swirling sky, and the tears that welled in her eyes were beginning to sting.

"Why does the nightingale never sing?" Haldir's voice said in slightly distant voice. Coruwen blinked away her tears, looking to her father, who had stood from his kneel and was looking at her with a forlorn expression. "I knew a nightingale once, so small and frail, which ran away from home. The little bird never returned home, but stayed beneath mountain instead with a great black dragon with sapphire eyes. The nightingale has never returned home, you see. I have yet to see my lost nightingale."

"Ada, please," Coruwen whispered. Haldir came before her and kneeled. "Do not do this to me…"

Haldir raised her face upward with his hand cupping her cheek. His grey eyes were no longer stern, but greatly grieved. He was not himself currently. "My little nightingale was replaced by a dragoness of the greatest gold. And I want my little girl back," He whispered, almost out of breath. Coruwen shut her eyes with tears rolling down her face. "You are not as I left you, my daughter."

"I am sorry, Ada… I never meant to hurt you in any way, but I am happier now." Coruwen touched foreheads with him before wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug, allowing her to buy her face into his neck. She could not stop the tears the fell from her eyes, or the breaths that were shaky from sadness. "I love my husband, but I would never abandon you or Rumil. I am still one of the people of Lothlórien; I am just far away."

Haldir held Coruwen close to him, fearing she would slip away if he did not hold her. Rumil had been right; he missed her more than he thought. He kissed her gold hair and then stroked her back as she clung to him as if she were a child once more. She pulled away from him allowing him to look into her light blue eyes that were glassy from tears. He wiped away a few tears that began to roll down her cheeks with his thumb, but could not help feeling as if her grief was caused by his earlier behavior.

"You are a grandfather now, Ada. I have a son, and he is the greatest joy in my life." Coruwen said quietly and his own heart leaped a bit in his chest. "One day, I wish for you to meet him. He is a loving child, and so bright and happy."

"Just like you were nightingale," Haldir whispered stroking her hair with one gloved hand. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead before taking her hand in his own. He was startled to see the elegantly crafted ring upon her right hand with a single diamond set into it. He smiled softly, "You were always my sun and stars, and now you have one of your own. I apologize for my earlier behavior, I was still bitter from when you left this race behind."

"I am an exile by all rights, but I would gladly come home if asked of me for a short while. I was truly upset when I was given your letter by Mithrandir. I thought you truly despised me."

"I was indeed upset; Coruwen, but I would never despise you." He helped her stand and held onto her hand. "I was very confused on that day. I did not know to be upset or happy for you. My daughter was marrying, but you were marrying a man, whose race we have not had dealings with since the dark days. I sent that letter to possibly make you come home, but I see it only made you flee from me."

Coruwen smiled up at her father before moving aside some strands of his hair that fell in his eyes. "Ada, if you knew the softer side of my husband, you would see why I chose him over all other ellyns; he maybe stubborn and quite short tempered, but he is kind though it can be hard to see."

"You're saying he means well," The Marchwarden chuckled, such a laugh she had almost forgotten. She laughed along with him, and his smile lingered. Her laugh was pure to his ears, no other elleth possessed his daughter's laugh; maybe it was because she was his daughter. "Tell me, nightingale, why have you returned to Lothlórien besides seeing Orophin?"

Coruwen blinked at the question and then she sighed, "It is my son, Odin. He… He was blessed by Manwë with foresight."

"You need to speak with the Lady of Light, don't you?"

"Yes, if you could pull strings to allow me to meet her, I would be eternally grateful, Ada." Haldir gave her a quizzical look, almost as if he did not understand why her child would be blessed with foresight. She gripped his hand tighter. "I need to figure out some way to help my son... Thorin and I feel helpless to this matter. It seems that Odin feels everything that occurs in his foresight dreams. He came to us the other night practically scared to death speaking about the Plight of Smaug upon Erebor. I-I feel like I'm blundering in the dark."

"I will help you in whatever way I can, my daughter. The Lady of Light will more than likely help you." Haldir patted his daughter's head softly. She gave him a smile as they left the small grove, and Coruwen silently prayed to the Valar that she would be able to speak with Galadriel.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Kili asked flatly, as he stared at his uncle finding it hard to believe that Thorin wanted him to find two puppies in Erebor's vast halls. The firm look that Thorin was giving him suggested that he was indeed not kidding. "Fine, I'll do it, but at least give me someone to go on this crazy adventure with."

Thorin nodded, glancing over his shoulder. "Sol, keep Kili company," The king said. Kili silently dreaded what was going to happen with Sol with him. He played with the buttons on his coat before he saw fire red hair out of his peripheral vision. His gaze flicked up to Sol, who was standing beside Thorin with her long hair pulled back in a ponytail. "They are small, no bigger than a tom cat and they should come to you."

"Doesn't sound too hard," Sol laughed. "Where did the young prince find them the other day?"

"Outside of the meeting hall, but they could honestly be anywhere." Fili interjected as he came down from a series of steps that led up to the main hall. Kili nodded in agreement; two dogs in Erebor was like finding needles in a haystack. "Uncle and I will search up here and if we find them before you two, then we'll come find you two."

"Come on, Sol," Kili said quickly as he started towards the lower levels with a swift step in his gait. The lower levels were always bustling, almost hard to maneuver through without bumping into someone. Dark green and red banners blurred past Kili's vision as he wove through the crowds of people towards the lowest level with Sol gripping his hand for dear life. Kili began asking people if they saw two puppies wander throughout the streets, but found they knew nothing…

"How do people _not_ notice two dogs the size of tom cats?" Kili whispered venomously. His irritation was blossoming into anger as he leaned up against the side of a pillar tapping his fingers on his sleeve. "I mean, it's a _dog_! Erebor doesn't have dogs aside from the few that wander in and out from Dale and Esgaroth."

A shout erupted over the crowds of milling people, one that sounded ungodly angry. "Hey, come back here!" The voice shouted. Kili turned his head watching as the crowds of people split like a great divide with two pups fleeing from the scene. One was wheat blonde with silver tips and rose-shaped ears flying in the wind as it galloped away, similar to that of a horse with all four big feet rising off of the ground in one swift stride. On a higher ridge, carrying a flank of meat, was far smaller pup colored like a baby deer and it was fast; almost a blur. Kili looked at Sol, and then at the pups.

"Catch the dogs!" Sol yelled as she ran through the crowd, but Kili was stuck thus he had to slink his way past many people to reach freedom where he saw Sol tumble to the ground with the wheat colored pup in her arms. His eyes darted around like a frantic mouse searching for its feline hunter. He didn't see the fawn colored pup. He let out a short breath before being tackled to the ground by, what felt like a fox. "Kili, don't move." Sol said cautiously.

Though his hair covered his eyes, Kili could hear the sounds of a high pitched growl brushing up against the back of his neck. He knew not to move, but he had to grab the dog before it ran away. He slowly turned his head catching the dark brown eyes of the fawn pup that held great anger within. It teeth were bared in a vicious snarl, though it was not physically threatening. Thorin had been right; these guys were not bigger that large tom cats. His fingers twitched once as it swung up, grabbing the pup off guard and pulling it into his arms like a shepherd holds a lamb. The pup struggled and in the end bit his gauntlet in defiance. The one Sol had grabbed was tame enough to be let down on the ground, and its tail wagged happily.

"Let's head back before this one finds out that he's chewing on my gauntlet," Kili said, for his gauntlet was formed of leather and studded armor, unable to take the vicious beating from the pup's locked jaw. The two made their way back up to the higher levels and found Thorin and Fili waiting for them at the iron door leading to the main hall. "Found 'em."

"We figured as much, they weren't up here," Fili stated, his voice slightly lightening from a withheld laugh. Kili mentally rolled his eyes before trying to pry the pup's jaws off of his arm. "She's got a nice lock on you, brother. You wanna give her up? She's seems quite taken."

"Get. It. Off," Kili demanded as the pup's jaws strengthened when Fili came nearby. He winced when the pup snarled, sounding vaguely like a wolf. "Fili, sometime today, please."

Fili approached the female pup holding onto Kili's arm and clicked his tongue to her. She eyed him darkly before bearing down again making Kili hiss in pain. "It's ok; I'm not going to hurt you." Fili held up his hands to show her that he meant no harm to her. Slowly, the pup's grip loosened just a bit. Kili met his brother's blue eyes that were slightly relieved. "It's all right," The female's grip finally came off and Kili's forearm throbbed in the pain when she leapt from his arms. Upon removing his gauntlet, Kili saw faint red marks in the shape of the pup's teeth upon his skin. The female danced around Fili, and then he looked down at her to see the pup eyeing him apologetically. He knelt down, and felt her cold nose touch his palm in acceptance.

"You're a sweet thing, really you are," Kili muttered stroking her soft head. He looked up at Thorin, who had the male pup before him sitting pretty for the king. The wheat blonde male was scruffy and dirty, possibly been running the mines as well for his head had a big dark grey mark from what looked like stone dust. "What do you think, Uncle?"

Thorin hummed in response, patting the male's head gently and in return, he got a lick on the hand. He knew Thorin was apprehensive of most animals, but the male pup had slightly gotten to him. He stroked its head once, looking into its eyes before raising his gaze. "This one, I name him Maugrim." The king stated, "A name of a commander, of a huntsman, for these pups are descendents of wolves."

"What about her?" Sol asked clapping for Maugrim. The pup trotted over with his tail flicking right and left in greeting. "She is awfully feisty for one so small…"

"I like Nyx," Fili interrupted. "Though it's a name belonging to a creature of darker color; I think it fits, in some strange way." Kili nodded in agreement stroking Nyx's head once more before she gave him a wet kiss on his cheek. He smiled when he hear his mother and Odin not too far away. "I think they'll do, Maugrim and Nyx; hounds of Erebor."

"Quite possibly the first and last," Kili finished standing from his kneel. His bones cracked a bit when he stood making him internally wince at the sound, hoping it was not too loud. "Uncle, you said they were descendents of wolves?"

"Maugrim is, Nyx is meant for hunting deer." Thorin said as he watched Odin approach Maugrim hesitantly before the pup tackled him to the ground with a gleeful bark. Though Thorin was not showing it, he was happy for Odin. The little boy grabbed a hold of Maugrim's head giving him a big kiss on his black nose. Odin's eyes flicked up to Thorin, and became slightly guilty randomly. The king knelt beside his son, resting one hand upon his little shoulder. "There are yours, my little one. This one is Maugrim, and the other Nyx."

"But, you said-," Odin pondered before Maugrim nuzzled the boy's face with his nose. Kili chuckled at the sight, finding it ungodly cute to behold. "Thank you, Adad…"

Thorin ruffled his son's hair once before standing. He was happy that Odin had someone to play with now, someone that was small enough; for now. By the size of Maugrim's feet, he would be at least as big as a small horse, maybe shorter. His body was meant for the hunt, and the same could have been said for Nyx. The small fawn colored pup was lean and nimble, meant for climbing steep rocks and leaping upon inspecting animals. Out of the corner of his eye, Kili watched Odin sit with Maugrim and Nyx's heads in his lap with one little hand stroking their ears.

"When will Coruwen be back, brother?" Dís asked. Kili saw his uncle's eyes darken greatly and he sighed shortly. Kili hated how quickly his uncle's mood changed nowadays; stress was beating him down bit by bit. "Thorin, you… you don't know, do you?"

"I do not know how long it will take her to speak with Lady Galadriel," Thorin replied. Kili's mind halted all thought when Thorin said Galadriel. Why did Coruwen go off to Lothlórien? He narrowed his eyes, and he saw Fili glaring at Thorin as well. Their uncle shifted his weight around, looking to Odin. "He has foresight…"

"Please tell you're kidding," Dís whispered. "What person could live with that? He is but a child." Dís' voice rose in disbelief as she stepped into her brother's view. She worried her bottom lip and Kili saw her throat physically tighten.

"It is more a curse than a blessing in my eyes, but he will have to live with it. That is why Coruwen left; if she can obtain aid from the Lady of Light then we might be able to help him better understand his visions," Thorin replied trying to soothe his sister. He glanced over at Kili and Fili. "Boys, I know it seems hard to believe, but he is Half-Elven… Your aunt and I took the risk, and we must live with it."

"So he's not normal?" Fili inquired.

"By our people, no, but with Coruwen's people, yes. Foresight is common amongst Elven kind, or so I have heard. I am beginning to believe it is hereditary." Kili looked down at Odin, who by all rights appeared... Normal. He was bright and loving for a child, but he matured faster than most dwarf-children for he was only eleven months of age and he spoke as if he were twenty two months of age. He found it unbelievable that his cousin was cursed by foresight…

"He is fine, dear sister," Thorin assured Dís as she looked over her shoulder at her nephew, who was razzing Nyx's face as she raced around him. "By all other rights, he is normal."

* * *

Coruwen stood beside Haldir as the two awaited the company of Lady Galadriel. It took Haldir and Rumil to convince Gilion that they needed to speak with Lady of Light by herself without Lord Celeborn watching them. She had remembered the look in Gilion's eyes when they said they needed just her, it was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Coruwen had heard of the Lady of Light, seen her pass by once or twice in her life, but never thought of speaking to her. To tell the truth, she was nervous.

"It will be all right, nightingale," Haldir whispered still keeping his gaze forward. She looked at him, seeing that his stern mannerisms had returned from their sudden dive earlier. There was a sudden shift of presence in the air that made Coruwen stiffen and raise her gaze upward to the top of a dais.

Standing in the middle of the great silver dais was Galadriel, Lady of Light, and wife to Celeborn. The elleth had long gold tresses that feel in perfect waves down her back and the gold mingled with the silver diadem she wore upon her brow. The lady wore a gown of white with a sheer cloak over her shoulders and it was held together by a opalescent brooch. The lady smiled down at Haldir and Coruwen before stepping down towards them with her gown trailing after her. There was an air about Galadriel that made Coruwen's soul feel at ease, almost as if she were family.

"What brings you here?"Galadriel asked. "When word reached me that I was to be alone; I was shocked."

"We needed you alone for one reason, my lady," Haldir began. Coruwen felt the eyes of Galadriel upon her, making her feel small. She could not help it if her gaze flicked down every once in awhile for the blue eyes of the lady were all knowing. As she raised her gaze up once more, she heard her father's voice become drowned out by a screaming silence that made her skin crawl.

"_The love of a child is strong, you fear for the worst," _Galadriel's voice rang out in her mind making her cringe. She had never had someone inside of her mind before, and it felt disturbing. The lady's touch was gentle, almost motherly in her mind. _"A blessing is simply a curse given in sheep's clothing. Your gift is no different… Nightingale," _Coruwen's eyes widened a bit in shock. The nickname the lady used was one her father had used, but the way Galadriel spoke it seemed as if she were trying to soothe her. Galadriel smiled knowingly at her, turning her attention to Haldir again as he spoke.

"A child's life at risk, is risking the lives of hundreds," Galadriel said at last. "To control foresight is control the winds. It is unpredictable, threatening to strike whenever it feels the need. In truth, there is no way to control it."

"You are saying that my son will just have to keep living with nightmares? He cannot live this way," Coruwen said her voice becoming slightly harsh. "Granted, I am blessed with foresight as well, but… But I have always been able to handle it."

"I do believe that your son can handle such troubles, if given time." Galadriel replied smoothly. "All must deal with problems in stride, and your son is no different. Though Half-Dwarven does make this project more difficult; it is nothing he cannot handle. Time is an excellent pace-maker, and it will help him greatly. Wait until he is older, and if the problem still persists; take him to myself or Elrond."

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel," Coruwen said quietly, her voice defeated for she could not believe that Odin would have to continue to struggle with this. In her mind, she wanted to pull her hair out for this matter. However, what good would come of it? When she and Haldir left and made it to a place where eyes could not see them, she hugged her father feeling greatly upset. Haldir stroked her back gently as she gripped his cloak in her slender hands. Her whole body shook with withheld anger and sadness. "How can she know that Odin is suffering? He is being hurt by this idiotic curse."

Haldir hushed her, kissing her hair trying to calm her down. "You will find a way, nightingale. You are his mother, and you will find a way… I know you will." He soothed. He took her hand, and she pulled away from him looking up with her blue eyes slightly glassy from frustration. "Come; let us find Rumil before he gets himself into more trouble."

"Knowing him, he all ready is in trouble," Coruwen muttered as the two ran off in search of Rumil. In a tall mallorn tree, high above Caras Galadhon, Rumil sat watching people train below and he heard the rustling of leaves behind him. He glanced down to see Haldir clambering up the branches like a nimble cat, which made him, stand and swing down a few branches to ease his brother's travels up the tree.

"Rumil, let's go," Haldir stated as he gestured down to the ground. The younger brother nodded and started on his way back down the tree dodging a few finches or squirrels that thought it would be funny to get in his way by pecking or running across his hand. Upon landing on the ground, he stretched almost hitting Coruwen with his arm, making her swat his upper arm. Haldir leapt down from the tree's lowest branch watching Rumil and Coruwen in mild amusement as Rumil apologized for almost hitting her.

"How did speaking with the Lady of Light go?" Rumil asked. Coruwen's blood became icy in her veins and she looked away from him. "Not well, I am assuming."

"She thinks that Odin will figure it out on his own. However, Odin is Half-Dwarven meaning that we do not know if he will be able to handle foresight at all. If he cannot, then his life will be ungodly hard on him."

Rumil sighed, "That's right; your child is the first in all history, or so we believe."

Coruwen shook her head, shutting her eyes. "I only wish for him to be all right. I fought to keep him in this world, just like I did with his father and cousins. All I want is for him to be happy with whatever path he chooses."

Haldir hummed in response. "A subject all parents desire for their children, but our idea of happy and the child's idea of happy are two different things, nightingale." Her stomach twisted painfully at her father's words and she nodded. Her father's idea of happiness and her idea were two different ideas entirely. "All you ever want for your child is to be happy..."

* * *

Thorin watched Odin out of the corner of his eye as he sharpened Orcrist with a whetstone. The eleven steel had not been used as of late, and it was becoming slightly dull. Around his feet lay Maugrim, with the pup's long head resting upon its large feet. Strangely, the sound of the stone upon metal didn't bother Maugrim as much as Thorin would have thought. Nyx had taken up playing with Odin by racing around the room like a fawn colored blur darting from one end of the massive hall to the other with Odin giggling all the while. He could hear the sounds of his nephews' harps being tuned in the corner of the room, far out of the way of Nyx and her running.

Once Orcrist was sharp enough for his liking, Thorin sheathed the blade, resting it at the side of his chair. Maugrim's rose-shaped ears twitched a bit, and he stroked the pup's back gently hearing a small content filled groan come from the pup. He heard the sound of an out of tune harp note being hit followed by a yelp from one of the boys.

"Maugrim!" Odin called, as Nyx halted at his side. Odin clapped his hands once or twice for Maugrim and the pup stood before trotting over to him. The two pups seemed to enlighten Odin a great deal, or so it appeared physically. His light blue eyes were no longer haggard and his pale no longer pale. When Thorin thought about Odin's foresight, the more he wondered what all the child would end up seeing. He could easily see future and see the death of many, possibly the deaths of loved ones or close friends. It was almost too much to take in…

"Adad?" Odin's voice asked quietly. Thorin glanced down to see Odin resting his elbows on his knees with his light blue eyes curious. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Little One, nothing is wrong. I was thinking…" Thorin replied patting his son's head. The intelligent eyes of his son glinted sadly for a moment before the boy sat down on the ground with Maugrim and Nyx. Those eyes were the eyes of his wife; they were bright and intelligent, almost too intelligent. They were eyes of the elleth he had met so many years ago that one day before the High Pass, the woman that had saved him from being stabbed by an orc, and the woman that had challenged his rules every step of the way. The woman that ended up becoming his… He leaned forward, patting Odin's shoulder. The boy turned his head, giving his father a smile before returning to playing with Maugrim's silver ears. "Odin…"

"Hm?' Odin hummed as his light blue eyes flicked backward. "What is it, Adad?"

"Do you miss your mother?" He asked. His son nodded slowly. "Come up here." Odin was pulled up into Thorin's lap with father and son meeting each other's eyes. "You have heard your mother talk about the adventure to Erebor, correct?"

"No, Nana says that too many bad things happened," Odin replied. "I have asked before…"

Thorin found that understandable coming from Coruwen. She had her pride broken several times on that journey, but not all aspects of that adventure were terrible. Granted, greed had gotten the better of him in that span of time, but he felt as if he could tell Odin certain parts of that story such as meeting Freya or the landing at the Eagle's Eerie.

"I see, well, I will tell you some parts of the story then," He said and watched Odin's eyes brighten up. He could see the dim gold of Fili's hair in the corner of the room. "Boys, come here!"

"Right now?" Kili asked

"No, later," Fili teased as he stood, walking out of the darkness. Kili slinked after him and the two came to sit near Thorin and Odin. "Sometimes Kili, I truly do wonder-,"

"Hey, do not try and pull the 'I wonder' trick," Kili retorted as Nyx placed her head in his lap. "That's my job."

"Ok, sure, it is. I'll let you keep living with that little thought," Fili replied.

"Boys," Thorin interrupted. "Fight later…"

He heard the ruffling flutter of wings making his gaze flick up to a hawk that had landed on Coruwen's throne with a small letter bound to its leg. He reached up, took the letter and tucked in away in his pocket before starting to speak to Odin about the adventure to Erebor. When Odin fell asleep in his arms, he removed the note to find it from an old friend. One, he never would have thought to hear from… Bilbo had written to him, in the hopes of seeing the company again before the years slipped away.

* * *

_A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Maugrim is taken from the Chronicles of Narnia, and thought it would be awesome to throw a bit of a throw back to that books series because C.S Lewis and Tolkien were good friends and authors. Nyx is the name of a Greek/Roman goddess of Night. _

_Little Warning: We are going to be jumping ahead a few years in the next chapter and from there on, we'll hopefully be getting into the War of the Ring. Soon-ish. _

_**Question for those who read A Marchwarden's Daughter and are looking forward to the sequel: When do you want Dragon Queen to come out? **_

_**Other Question for everyone: What do you want to see happen in the future? **_

_**Please Review, because I want to hear what you all think! **_


	21. Chapter 21

_**Music Suggestion: The Last Debate By Howard Shore **_

* * *

_**The Call**_

* * *

-**August 12, 3018-**

* * *

"Odin, hurry up!" A gruff voice growled. Coruwen watched as her son appeared from the shadows of a corridor, walking over to a dwarf two or years younger than him with dark brown hair and dark grey eyes. His face was stern, and he was broad shouldered with a battle axe swung on his back. Behind the broad shouldered dwarf was his brother with the same eyes and dark hair but his face was one of boredom with twin daggers resting on his hips. He was built leaner than his brother as well, and he wore light leather armor colored dark brown.

"I was right here, you're the ones who were taking forever, Tyr," Odin scolded. His voice was becoming deeper as of late like his father's, but it held certain notes of the silvery voices belonging to her people. Odin had been gifted with a bit more height that most dwarves, in fact he was quite tall for being Half-Dwarven. His hair was dark and wavy, reminding her much of Thorin when he was young, but her son's eyes were intelligent and kind. His broadsword was strapped to his hip and dressed in a mixture of heavy and light armor.

Tyr scoffed, swatting Odin's arm. "Ok, ok, I get it; we're late, big deal. Balder was the one flirting with women." Balder paled, mouth agape as he stared up at his twin. Tyr kept his voice monotone with a small snide smirk creeping up on his lips. "And yes, Balder, I threw you under the wagon."

"I hate you," Balder growled.

"Come on, let's go before Brand chews us out," Odin ordered starting towards the main gate. Coruwen smile at her son's orders. Ever he was his father's son, she thought. She gripped the pommel of the Dragon Blade giving her enough leverage to stand to her full height. In her soul, she started feeling thin and spent. The herb that once cured her disease was beginning to no longer help her. When she had told Thorin, he seemed shocked for several days and wouldn't speak to her. It took all of her strength to help him through it, but Odin was still blind to her crumbling condition. She knew her son would worry, just as his father did.

"Lady Queen?" A voice peeped from behind a pillar. In her side vision, Coruwen saw bright gold hair and white. One of her handmaidens was a young woman by the name of Frigga, and had been with her for many years. When Merida had passed, Frigga took her stead. The woman was kind, but shy; and blessed with dark gold hair and green eyes. When Frigga came out of the shadows, Coruwen saw her worry. "Where is the prince running off to with Lord Balder and Tyr?"

"Dale, Frigga. Brand required Odin's aid for something," She replied. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just curious; that's all," Frigga laughed nervously. The queen eyed her handmaiden curiously, sensing Frigga to be slightly unnerved. Frigga's green eyes widened in shock and she stiffened. "Lady Queen, your son has long since been my friend. I only care about him as such."

"All right, I would not tell his cousins though," Coruwen stated in a slight bit of disbelief. "If you care for my son, I will not stop you. You are kind and just, a true mark of a queen."

Frigga shut her eyes playing with her dress's sleeves. The nervousness of the young dwarf woman was radiating off of her in waves. Coruwen had remembered being like her once; confused like this by love's constant prodding. Mirkwood had done that to her heart, or rather Thorin had done that to her. "My lady, your son will be quite old by the time he is given the writ of passage into kingship."

"Odin is Half-Elven," Frigga's eyes opened becoming quizzical as she followed Coruwen down the hall to reach the outside. The elleth gripped the iron knob of the door, pausing as her lungs threatened to send a cough forward. Frigga appeared in her peripheral vision, still rather curious. "He will live a long time, though not eternally like my people. Odin most likely will outlive all of the kings of the line of Durin." The queen breathed slowly, feeling her lungs shudder within her chest like someone was snapping small bits of twigs. "You care for him?"

"As a friend, yes," Frigga said shyly and Coruwen smiled knowingly. "Maybe more, if he would focus."

"Odin is his father's son, meaning he has odd ways of showing affection."

"But you and the king are very smitten with each other, aren't you?"

"My husband is strong and does not show weakness easily, however…" Frigga smiled at the ground and Coruwen merely chuckled. "He fears losing me, or my rejection; an example would have been when he courted me."

The handmaiden laughed a bit as Coruwen pushed open the door feeling the humid air slightly buffet her. The summer had been warm this year and ungodly humid; a strange weather condition for Erebor. Many men from Dale had begun patrolling the eastern borders and the dwarves watched the ridges for impeding forces. A Black Rider had been spotted on their borders nearly a month ago, riding with a strange swiftness towards the south. When Sauron had made himself known, the world's very core had shaken in anger of the deep sonorous voice of Sauron. Coruwen had remembered Odin when he was but a few years of age, shrieking at the top of his lungs at the pain of Sauron's voice. Her child fell ill after that excursion, and Odin hadn't quite been the same. His foresight became more controlled, for he began to see the future in snippets in flashes of fire and roars, or cracks of thunder. When Maugrim and Nyx had passed, Odin became filled with melancholy when he was fifteen moons old. He only began to change when he met Tyr and Balder, and Thorin had given him another hound named Fenrir.

"My lady?" Frigga's voice asked, her green eyes blinking up at her curiously. Coruwen's attention snapped down and she shook her head.

"My apologies, Frigga. I was lost in thought," The elleth said gently. "Thinking of the past, really."

"It is quite all right, my lady." Coruwen looked to the sky to see a silver and white hawk circling overhead with long tassels of light blue trailing behind it. "Is that a hawk?"

"It is, one from Imladris," Coruwen breathed as she started up the trail that led up to a high outcropping of rock. When the hawk landed, it stuck out its leg for the queen to remove a letter tied around its leg. When she removed the wax seal, she found Elrond's handwriting upon the parchment.

_To the Free Folk of Middle-Earth_,

_The Ruling Ring has been found, with this knowledge I am calling a council to be held in Imladris to decide the ring's fate. Send whoever you deem worthy, but the council is to be held on October 25__th__. _

_-Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, son of Earendil._

"What is it, my queen? Who has called from the West?" Frigga inquired. Coruwen found it hard to believe that the Ring had been found after many, many years. Her mind began to piece together questions, but she stopped herself short. She whirled around, heading back inside searching for Thorin and Fili. She opened the door to the library to find Fili looking over old books making a mess of the library. If Ori were here, he would have skinned her nephew. Fili glanced up from his book, quickly shutting it and placing it on the table to reach her.

"What is wrong?" Fili asked concerned of his aunt's slightly unnerved expression.

She let out a short breath, "Where is your uncle?"

Fili looked at the door, and then at the ground, thinking. He tapped his fingers on his sleeve. "He said he was going to Dale," Fili paused, "Oh wait a minute that was Odin… How in the heavens do I get them confused?" His voice was quick and then he paused again, narrowing his eyes. "I have no idea."

"Well, my little lion, go with Frigga up to the main hall. I will find Thorin," She stated firmly, to which Fili bowed his head and left the library. Coruwen shut her eyes, searching for her husband's spirit within the halls of her kingdom. When she felt the slight pull of his spirit on hers, she found him in the lower levels of Erebor with Fenrir. She picked up her skirts and headed in the direction of the lower levels. The people of Erebor had thinned in the lower levels; most had begun to feel the threat of the world's impeding force and thus began to work in their forges again. She heard the bark of Fenrir and found Thorin rubbing Fenrir's grey head as he spoke with Gloín and Gimli. "Thorin," Her voice made the three dwarves shift their gazes to her. She unfolded the note from her hand, and Thorin stepped forward to take it. His blue eyes narrowed when he read the note over.

"The Ruling Ring has been found… So the appearance of the Nazgûl was not because they felt the need to rise then," Thorin said in a slightly dark tone. "Where is Odin?"

"Dale with Tyr and Balder; I was planning on calling him back." She replied. "You take Gloín and Gimli back up to the main hall and I will bring back Odin and the twins."

"Right, and if you find a raven outside send it to Dain; tell him we need to make for Rivendell."

"He is not going to like that," Gloín pointed out.

Coruwen felt something snap in her voice when she spoke, "He will, should he not want the world to come to an immediate halt. He will understand, trust me." Her voice became stern as she headed back towards the main gate. When she stepped foot outside she found Mora standing before her. This mighty black mare was a gift from Bain after he had passed. Faenaur had passed away when he was old and grey, but with Mora she found happiness again. She was quite tall for a mare with feathered feet and a single white blaze on her snout.

Coruwen mounted Mora and took one of her soft ears. "Ride to Dale, Mora. Show me how fast the wind carries you." The mare snorted and started off into a gallop down the hill towards Dale. Mora halted before the gates of Dale, and she saw the back of Brand's head. He was gifted with black hair like Iris, the first of his hair color in the line of Girion, and the long face of Bard along with the old Lord of Dale's height and jovial nature.

"I suspected as much, we never have been able to-"Tyr's voice dropped off when his grey eyes caught sight of Coruwen. "Balder, Odin, the queen is here."

Odin appeared at Tyr's side with Balder hanging back in the shadows. When she was seen by Brand he gave her a low bow to which she gave him a slight incline of her head. Odin spoke to her first in the language of her people, catching Tyr off guard and Balder arched one eyebrow. _"What is wrong?" _Odin asked.

"_Elrond has called for a council; I need you to return to the throne room. We need to talk,_" Coruwen replied and then switched back to Common Tongue to speak to the twins and Brand. Odin slinked away and grabbed his horse to return back to Erebor. "I terribly hate to do this to you, Lord Brand. But, a matter of the utmost importance has come up; I hope you understand."

Brand chuckled. "Of course I understand, milady. I am rather curious about the name you spoke of, thus I am sending Bard with you."

"Understood; Tyr, Balder, follow Odin." The twins ran after their friend and the eldest son of Brand came running out of the shadows with a young girl behind him; most likely his sister. Brand and Bard appeared quite close in appearance; the only difference was Bard's grim features were far more prominent to that of Brand. "Come young Bard, follow me."

Upon returning, Coruwen found Odin, Tyr, and Balder in the throne room along with Kili and Sol, both whom managed the guards ever since the death of Grimbolt. She sat beside Thorin, who was pinching the space between his eyes in mild stress and she placed her hand on his wrist. The king glanced up, letting out a shaky breath.

"Mother, what in the world happened?" Odin asked, unnerved by the sudden turn of events. Coruwen looked at her son, unable to form words currently. "Mother…"

"The One Ring has been found," Thorin stated shocking everyone in the room. Fili blinked in shock, slightly tapping his fingers on the pommel of his sword. "We have been asked to send a few of you to Rivendell; far in the West to listen to the council Lord Elrond has proposed. I all ready have spoken with Dain, Gloín, and Gimli who plan on going."

"Well, Dain never agreed we volunteered him, dearest," Coruwen corrected.

"That we did," He agreed. The king peered up at Fili, who was under the slight shock of this whole situation. Coruwen gripped his wrist tighter and he slid his hand into hers. "We could send the princes. What do you think, my queen?"

"Odin is Half-Elven and would easily work for both races, and Fili is, of course, the Crowned Prince. I think it will be fine."

Fili and Odin nodded in agreement, and then Kili spoke up, "What do we need to do in the mean time?"

Coruwen shut her eyes while Thorin looked at his younger nephew. "We need to make sure that Khamûl does not strike again, or the Easterlings do not attack while our emissaries are away."

"We haven't seen the Easterlings in a long time, why did they not come back and strike again?"

"The first time was simply to deliver Khamûl to Dol Guldur, but with The Iron Hills and Erebor getting in their way; they had to attack to make enough leverage to get to the citadel." Coruwen said, her eyes opening to look at Kili and Sol. "That does not mean that they will not strike in other ways, they are similar to the people of Rohan. They ride cavalry that are unmatched by any breed of horses in Middle-Earth. They also believe in taking no male prisoners, even if they are a few days old."

Sol physically cringed, casting her emerald gaze to the floor. And she whispered under her breath, "Savages…"

"Odin, Fili, it will take you a couple of months to get to Rivendell in a timely manner. Find Gloín and Gimli and start heading preparing, quickly."

Fili started down the steps, but Odin lingered behind. Coruwen looked at her son; fearing something was terribly wrong. When he left, she cleared her throat feeling a cough creep up on her. She felt Thorin grab her arm, holding her still. When she inhaled again, her lungs released the terrible cough that had been plaguing her for many, many years. Her hand covered her mouth as she coughed, and pulling her hand away revealed dark red blood; it was getting worse.

"Coruwen," Thorin's voice whispered, his calloused hand gripping her shoulders. Kili and Sol both looked at her with sheer dread written across their faces. Kili ran up to her, kneeling before her with his gold eyes becoming greatly grieved. "It sounds it is getting worse…"

"It has, and will," She rasped. "I am dying…"

"No, you aren't," Kili snapped. "You cannot leave this world yet." His tone was firm, but in a way sounded like a child pleading for their mother to never leave. Her hand passed across Kili's face. Her little wolf had long since protected her just as his uncle had. His protection was a common thread amongst male dwarves; whereas Fili's protective nature was more silent and seen through small changes in his demeanor. "Please…"

"I am not gone yet, my little wolf…" She smiled softly. "I am ever so slowly crumbling; far from deaths grip. I have been this way for years, and if I planned on ever dying it would have been the day that I thought I lost you and your uncle to Bolg."

Kili stood, coming to stand beside her while she brushed off her husband's strong grip. His worry was only becoming greater with each outburst he saw. However, it could not be helped anymore. Nothing stopped it; even if something did work, it only worked for a few days. She hoped, prayed, and had faith that Odin would not fall into grief with her passing…. His calling was to become king, just like his cousin and forefathers. He and Fili were gifted with the call to protect their people until their days ended.

* * *

_A/N: I know this WAY short, but I have writer's block... and my idea train is coming to an end again because guess what I got sucked into? I got sucked into Game of Thrones and lost all sense of thought. I started basing the Easterlings off of the Dothraki because of it. Also, i hate spell-check with great passion. I spelled elven last chapter, and it thought i spelled Eleven; stupid technology. _

_**Anyway, give me ideas, pretty please! We are getting into the War of the Ring after all this time! :) Suggestions most welcome, so please review! **_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Rivendell**_

* * *

**-October 17, 3018-**

* * *

Odin watched the flickering sunlight through the canopy of the rich green trees with the sound of rivers reaching his sharp senses. The road to Rivendell had one of memory for Gloín and Fili, both of whom spoke of their adventure from Rivendell to Erebor in great detail. The forest that led down from the High Pass was one of old age and well kept by the elves of the land. Little finches sung their melodic songs with the wind, and the deer raced through the forest like nimble spirits. He felt a hand on his shoulder, drawing him from his dream like daze. Fili had a playful smirk on his face as he gripped Odin's shoulder tighter.

"You seem a bit... Stricken with this forest, yeah?" Fili asked, his gaze flicking up to the forest once and then back down to his cousin. Odin gave him a puzzled look and he chuckled, "That'd be the elf in you, I suppose. You haven't been around forest in a long time."

"Unless you count Mirkwood; which really is just a gruesome thing," Odin said in a low tone, feeling a shudder race down his spine at the thought of Mirkwood. "But you're right; I haven't been around a forest of such… Beauty."

"Elf," Fili teased as he started up the trail again. Odin scoffed, darting after his cousin and playfully shoving his back. Fili whirled around, pointing a scolding finger at him. "Hey now, don't do that."

"Oh please, you and Kili shove each other all the time."

"Your point is what? You may be taller than me, but I am still stronger than you. Always will be elfling." Odin scowled and Fili chuckled under his breath. Being called elfling was an obscenity used by people who didn't favor him, he knew Fili meant it out of play, but it made his heart twinge painfully. He felt Fili tug a strand of his wavy hair making his jolt forward like a horse pulled by its master. "You know I didn't mean it _that_ way, pup. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Yeah, still gets me every now and again," Odin admitted. He heard a huff and his gaze flicked upward to see Gimli standing above them on a jutting of rock with a cross look upon his face.

"I would have thought as princes, you would be far ahead of us by now. Move along," Gimli stated gruffly leaping down from the rocks. Fili smiled and started onward again.

"To think that Dain is ahead of us is astounding," Odin whispered with a smile as he ran up the slope to see the great valley of Imladris with the roar of the waterfalls pounding on his ears. Amongst the great waterfalls lay an ivory and silver city with a few splotches of green tree tops. Under his breath, Odin whispered, "Imladris…"

"Odin!" Gloín barked back at him, drawing Odin out of his daze so he could follow the others down the hill. The paths below were heavily trodden by horses and elves, but slick with water from the waterfalls' mists nearby. He caught up to Fili's side, hearing his cousin snicker at his mishap.

"Focus, pup," Fili whispered. Odin shot him a dirty look, which only made Fili's smirk get wider. If he could have nudged Fili a bit, but couldn't because of the path. The four made their way down the rocks towards Rivendell and found a tall elf with long dark hair garbed in gold robes standing beside another that was gifted with long golden hair in robes of sky blue. The dark haired elf inclined his head to Gloín.

"Welcome, Dwarves of Erebor," The dark haired elf said with a small smile.

"It is good to be in your company again, Lord Elrond," Fili addressed. Odin looked up at the lords and Elrond met his eyes. Within his mind, he felt a small stir that made him look away at his sword's pommel. There was something strange about the lord before him. The one with golden hair had yet to speak, but there was a noble glimmer in his sky blue eyes. He watched Fili speak to Lord Elrond and then he took a step away before the lord called for a young elf that motioned for them to follow him. "Hey, Odin, wait a minute." Odin's eyes flicked back to Elrond and Fili. He heard Gloín and Gimli pass out of ear shot and his heart sunk.

Elrond's grey eyes lit up a bit when he walked up to him. "It is good to finally meet the second Crowned Prince of Erebor. Welcome to Imladris, Odin, son of Thorin." Elrond said kindly. Odin bowed to the Elf Lord, and caught the lord watching him curiously; like he was a something rather foreign. "You definitely have your father's bearing, but your mother's gentleness."

"I have heard of you before, Lord Elrond. And it is good to finally meet you as well," Odin replied with a soft smile. His mind recalled many memories of his father speaking about Elrond in slight disdain. This lord seemed perfectly harmless to him. "My mother wished for me to give you this, my lord." From his pocket, Odin withdrew a letter that had the wax seal of the royal family holding the enveloped closed. Elrond took the offered letter and tucked it away with in his robes.

"Now, there is someone that has been eagerly awaiting the two of you. Come, follow me," Elrond stated as he started off to a secluded balcony that looked eastward to the Misty Mountains. The roar of the waterfalls died down to a low growl, but above them was a loud bark of laughter belonging to Gimli and Gloín. Elrond halted before an archway, gesturing for them to enter the balcony. Gloín sat beside a small person, only appearing like a child of Men to him with snow white hair that was curly. Fili smiled and chuckled, drawing the brown eyes of the small person. Upon glancing the man over, Odin saw he was a hobbit; a Halfling from the Shire. He was dressed in white with a silver scarf around his neck.

"Bilbo!" Fili laughed as he clasped the frail shoulders of the hobbit. Bilbo laughed, patting Fili's hands.

"You haven't changed, Fili," Bilbo said with a small wink. Odin couldn't help but smile at his cousin's slight bashfulness of the statement. The brown eyes of Bilbo were filled with youthful intent despite his elderly appearance. "And who is this? Looks like a taller version of Thorin."

"This is my cousin, Odin," Fili said, and Bilbo stood, walking over to him and looking him dead in the eyes.

"You must Bilbo Baggins; I do believe my mother called you _perian?_" Odin teased. Bilbo's eyes lit up and he grasped Odin's elbows tightly, chuckling.

"So _you_ are the boy I've heard about so much from your father! I saw you and saw your father, terribly sorry, my lad," Bilbo apologized. Odin shook his head. 'Oh well, you must get that a lot. Though, I do see your mother in your eyes."

"I also get that a lot too," Odin tried to keep edginess out of his voice. The notorious short temper of the line of Thror was beginning to surface, for the hobbit seemed to be reading him like a book. Gloín cleared his throat indelicately causing Bilbo's attention to snap back. Odin looked at Gloín, who gave the tiniest of nods to him. Behind him, he heard someone calling out for Bilbo, causing the person in question to call out to the other.

"Bilbo, Lord Elrond is-," A second hobbit stood in the doorway, his blue eyes wide with shock and he ran a hand through his dark curls. He quickly shook himself free of his stupor, looking at Bilbo. "Who are these people, Uncle?"

"Frodo, my lad, this is Gloín, Gimli, Fili, and Odin; three of which-," Bilbo was cut off Frodo finishing his sentence, causing Bilbo to somewhat physically puff up like a little crow.

"Two of the members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield?" Frodo asked in amazement. Gloín chuckled, bowing his head to Frodo. The blue eyes of Frodo landed on Odin. "Who are you then?"

"I am his son, Master Frodo," Odin stated firmly. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Frodo bowed his head. "I am meeting a prince, or," He cringed a bit. "I would think that you are."

Odin eyed him, feeling a taken back by the statement. He was a prince, a part of the line of Thror, and moreover he was proud of his lineage. "I am a prince, as is my cousin."

"Then…" Frodo's sentence drifted off as he pondered something. His fingers played with the sleeve of his shirt. Odin felt his protectiveness die down when Fili's hand rested upon his shoulder. Bilbo chuckled and stood.

"He is Half-Elven, Frodo. Think about those stories I told you about the Golden Dragon of the East." Bilbo said with a bit of distance in his voice. The young hobbit blinked, and then began muttering in a low tone about that being impossible.

"Not impossible as you can clearly see," Odin chuckled. Frodo looked up, blinking like a moonstruck animal. "And yes, I heard you."

"Oh you are your mother's son in that respect." Bilbo grumbled, tapping his fingers on his walking stick. The other burst into laughter and Bilbo swatted the air, as if telling them off. "Could never have a conversation without that elf listening. Quite troublesome really."

"I am terribly sorry, bad habit," Odin apologized, and Bilbo playfully nudged him with his staff. He backed away, and Bilbo left the room with Frodo. He looked to Fili, who was trying his best to not laugh anymore. "What did I do?"

"You have your mother's inability to stop eavesdropping," Gloín pointed out. Odin scoffed, leaning up against the archway, ignoring their jests and laughter.

* * *

"Careful with the winds, they're going to get strong!" Cairn shouted back over the winds that surged in his ears. He hated the strange gales that plagued the rolling plains of Rhun. Behind him were some of his strongest flyers, yet even they were having a hard time flying with this galestorm. Beside him, flew his mate and she was tossed back by a strong wind making her squawk in surprise.

He mentally noted that he would die an early death, younger than his father, because of Thorin's ideas that flying over Rhun was a _good_ idea. He decided to land on a cactus flower, careful of the spines that stuck up like invisible spires from the deep green bush. Rhun was similar to the far South, past Gondor, where the Haradhrim originated from; a dusty bare landscape but grew lush as they neared the Sea of Rhun.

"Whose bloody idea was this again?" A hawk snorted. The hawk had come from the Iron Hills, and the personal hawk of Dain Ironfoot. In short, he was very boisterous and Cairn hated the way he fluffed his feathers to make himself bigger. One amber eyes flicked back to the hawk, who was removing chunks of down from his chest. "Last time I checked, which was not too long ago, the Easterlings are perfectly happy on their little boats far in the sea."

"If you desire to complain, my _lord_, then by all means go back to Dain and tell him nothing is coming. _But_, should the Easterlings strike, then it will your tail feathers being used for arrows." Cairn snapped, watching the swirling heat of Rhun cloud his vision. He watched his son and daughter fly overhead before splitting in different directions. A white crested raven landed beside him.

"Nothing to the North North-east, my lord," The white one proclaimed, "Shall I start to the sea?"

"No, not yet," Cairn replied. "I want that bit to myself."

"Right," The raven flew off, and Cairn heaved a heavy sigh. He was beginning to become testy. His typical temperament had been removed with the constant complaining of Dain's Hawk. He had a few more ravens report in with nothing more than the occasional coyote or gold eagle spotted. However, upon his son's return he noticed a great shift in the air.

"Hugin, what is wrong?" Cairn asked, rising into the sky. His son hovered in the air, looking to the South. The green eyes of Hugin were greatly concerned. "You saw something?"

"Aye, a great marching of Easterlings; heading towards Mordor. However, some have remained behind in a settlement far to the East nearest Rhun. They are preparing for something, father."

Cairn hissed out a breath, finding it unbelievable. He needed to return to Erebor, now. He looked to his daughter, and gave her a loud squawk to which she returned. Cairn bumped his son's shoulder, gesturing back to Erebor. Hugin kept up with his father's swift flight back, and hoped that someone would be present for them to find.

Coruwen nicked her finger on a needle as she worked on a needlepoint of the Arkenstone. Her fingers weren't working as well as she would have liked; her illness was taking its toll on her. She felt as if she was aging at a rapid rate on some days, today was sadly one of those days. She tightened her hand into a fist, flexing it once or twice test her dexterity.

"Tyr, give it back!" Balder growled. Coruwen glanced up to see Balder pinning his twin to the floor with Tyr wriggling around like a bug crushed beneath someone's thumb. Balder held his brother's face up to look at him, and within the grey eyes of the younger twin was a deep anger, deadly similar to that of Dwalin. Most considered Tyr the living embodiment of his father, but Coruwen saw Dwalin more in Balder since Tyr was quiet and less likely to voice his opinion.

"Bite me," Tyr snapped.

Coruwen heard Frigga sigh, annoyed at the actions of the two. She glanced up at the handmaiden, seeing annoyance written upon her face and her attention drawn away from her book. Short temper was not common for Frigga, but Tyr, Balder, and Odin drew it from the depths of her kind soul. The queen reached forward, patting Frigga's shoulder, making her draw back a bit.

"Ice-brains, I suggest you fight later," Frigga scolded, returning her gaze to her book. Balder punched Tyr's shoulder once, and rolled off of his brother. When Tyr stood, he handed back a jeweled dagger that Balder swiped away from his brother's grip.

"Sorry, Frigga," Tyr said sheepishly.

Coruwen heard an arrow whistle and clatter to the floor in the far corner. She traced the arrow's flight back to the bow of her younger nephew, who was looking at her as if expecting her to become angry. She chuckled, shaking her head, "Careful, my wolf."

"Sol pushed me," Kili stated darting to grab his arrow. Indeed, Sol was behind him; dressed in the garb of the second-in-command of the Guard with Kili being the Captain. She watched him sit at her feet, playing with the tip of a light wood carved arrow with an elegantly made arrowhead. It was one of her arrows that he had found many, many years ago when she used to practice often in the hopes of repairing her arm. She noticed he never used it.

"Kili, what's that?" Kili yelped, dropping the arrow. He frantically picked it up, placing it back into his quiver. One gold eye glanced back at her past a slightly mussed braid. It was as if he was ashamed of that arrow. Setting aside her needlepoint, she placed her hands on his shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. "That is one of mine, why not use it?"

"Because it's one of your arrows… It's a bit too pretty to waste on a target," Kili muttered. A smile creased her face as she stroked a loose section of his hair. "I want to keep it, if that is all right with you."

"I see no wrong in it," Coruwen replied removing her hands from him to continue her stitching. Dark brown, gold, and now white mingled with silver were woven into this small needlepoint. She took one hand, allowing her eyes to wander across the piece. A small dark brown wolf head with gold eyes stared out into the world with a necklace of the Arkenstone around its neck, glittering brightly like a small star. It was for her little wolf, which guarded the city like an alpha wolf protects its pack. She had made a lion with a wreath of maple leaves for Kili, a black dragon for Thorin with a much smaller gold dragon sitting at its feet, and blue eyed black eagle for Dís. In truth, she was nearly finished with Kili's needlepoint, and this was the one she was having the most trouble with.

"My queen!" A voice called. Coruwen glanced up to see Cairn and Hugin flying into the throne room. She handed her work to Frigga and stood, allowing Cairn onto her shoulder. The amber eyes of the Raven Lord were deeply panicked, making her question what was wrong. She made a gesture for him to speak, as he caught his breath. "Rhun, the East, something is wrong." He took a gulp of air. "Where is the king?"

"With Dwalin, going over some plans that the Elvenking and Brand worked out the other day," Kili answered. Coruwen gestured for Kili to follow her and they ran off to the war room to find Dwalin and Thorin. Upon opening the door, both men looked up at Kili and Coruwen, greatly confused. Cairn flew from Coruwen's shoulder onto the table, ruffling his wings in an attempt to smooth them back down.

"What is the matter?" Dwalin asked tapping Cairn a bit. The raven hopped over onto the edge of the table and began to draw on the great map of Middle-Earth near the sea of Rhun with one claw. Coruwen cringed when the lord drew a line downward to Mordor. "Cairn, words would be a good idea."

Coruwen felt Thorin's hand rest upon her low back making her stiffen. His eyes were narrowed at the map, analyzing the drawings Cairn had placed around Rhun. After a short huff, Cairn spoke, "Scouts have begun sighting numerous tribes of Easterling forces marching south. They flock as if someone has called them. They take no horses, they only march which I find strange. From what I have learned of the East, they are a race that rides faster than the winds that cross the sea."

"Sauron has no need for horses, all he needs is their strength," Thorin stated. "Why use a breed of animal that is useless to him and his warriors?"

"Aye, that is a relevant statement, my king. However, there is one problem, I have yet to mention," Cairn returned and Dwalin sighed. Coruwen saw Cairn hop over to a large circle he had drawn at the south-eastern edge of the Sea of Rhun. "There is a force, small and weak, at the edge of the sea that has been growing day by day. The forces that march to Mordor leave their horses behind here. I do not see them as a threat quite yet, but surely over time they might-,"

"Attack again," Dwalin finished. Cairn nodded gravely, and the queen's heart sank. The Easterling's were under the control of Khamûl and Sauron, and they not only wanted to find the Ring, but destroy the world in a great purge. If that meant destroying the cities of Men along with the last few settlements of dwarves and elves, then nothing was stopping them. She reached back, grabbing Thorin's hand.

"You seemed bothered, my lady," Cairn pointed out as he flew up into the air allowing Dwalin to fix the scratches the raven had made.

"The last time the Easterlings attacked they did not have Khamûl with them. That Nazgûl knows these lands well, and _will_ use that to his advantage. The cities of Men that sit below us can easily be swayed, and if the Lake-men rise against us. What will we do? We may be strong enough to handle one force, but what will we do if there are three, maybe four against us?"

"You are the Dragon of the East, my queen. Freya could-," Cairn winced as Coruwen shot him a dark glare.

"Freya's power is waning, as is the magic that binds her to the earthly plain. If we have to use her, then it must be because of dire consequence." She said firmly. "I will not risk the life of my dragon."

"I believe Cairn is asking what if it comes to that," Thorin stated, trying to calm her. "What would happen should we have to use Freya?"

Coruwen blinked in bewilderment, trying to piece together words. "Then we would have to ask for her assistance. She might have to tumble with Khamûl, should she rise to fight."

"Well, we should hope that will not be the case then," Cairn replied, flying out of the room through a small hole that Coruwen was surprised he was able to fit through. She dearly hoped she would not have to call on Freya ever again unless the dragoness came to her. The pendant the held Freya's scale was beginning to turn white, and the sunstones were turning clear. The potent magic that held Freya to earthly world was fading because of age and mental state. Freya was lonely; she had no one to keep her company aside from woodland creatures that greatly feared her.

"Are you all right?" Thorin's voice drew her back to the room. Dwalin had left and Kili was standing outside the door talking with one of his men. She nodded to Thorin, and he kissed the back of her hand making her smile. "You have been rather upset as of late."

"Elrond's letter still haunts me. To think that the One Ring has been found and is in the hands of a hobbit," The statement warranted a confused glance from her husband and she sighed. "Bilbo's nephew has it; I saw it in a vision. I was truly hoping it was wrong until I spoke with my father upon the matter. Lady Galadriel has sensed the Ring with the boy."

"You do not believe he will take it, do you?"

"I am not sure, but should he take it; be ready for someone to not return home from Imladris. The road to Mordor is long, and surely unable to taken on by a single hobbit."

"I know for a fact that if Bilbo didn't have the company he would have gotten himself into more trouble than he could have ever imagined." Coruwen gave him a small look of knowing, and he brushed it off. "Save a few times where he came and found us…"

"Mirkwood and Smaug are perfect examples, dearest. Had it not been for Calenfaire and Bilbo, the company would have surely been put to the headmen's block for sure."

Coruwen heard Kili from the doorway, and she turned her gaze backward to him. He was leaning against the frame, arms crossed with a playful smirk on his face. She gave him a quizzical look to which he shook his head. She was sure that he had heard them. "This came for the two of you, by the way." Kili said handing her a letter pressed with a blue wax seal. She opened it to reveal her son's penmanship. When she had finished reading it, she passed it to Thorin. "It's from Odin, isn't it?"

"Aye, he's coming home in a few weeks, but Gimli and Gloín are not following him," Thorin replied folding the letter back up. Kili blinked, slightly confused. "Odin did not divulge why the two are not returning." The king glanced up at his wife, seeing her dig her nails into her palms. "You were right about Bilbo's nephew."

"What?" Kili asked.

Coruwen turned her gaze away when Thorin spoke again. "He plans on taking the One Ring to Mordor."

Coruwen's airways constricted at the mere thought of Mordor. With the way the shadow was always swirling and brooding in the far south made her uneasy and often her mind would be clouded by its foul presence. Now, the Easterlings were beginning to mass in the east with some heading south, and the constant attacks happening in Thranduil's home. Sauron wanted to cripple the Northeast to allow Khamûl to crush the cities beneath his heel. Years of peace were going to be disrupted…

* * *

**-December 25, 3018-**

* * *

Odin watched Balder throw knives at a target for what felt like hours. With winter came a bitter cold, a rather strange welcome home from being away from a long while. The prince ran a finger along the edge of his sword feeling the steel's frigid bite. He heard the sheathing a knife and he glanced up at Balder. His friend huffed flexing his hands once. Balder had a rather cross expression on his face when he twirled a steel dagger in his hand.

"What's on your mind, Balder?" Odin asked tucking strands of his dark hair behind his ear. Ever so slightly the ears of the prince were pointed, greatly similar to that of a hobbit. He shifted on the rock allowing Balder to sit beside him. His friend was one of the few that had mastered being quite amongst his race and thus became an assassin.

"It's the strange quiet that has fallen over the city. We've lived here our whole lives and never has it been this… Mute," Balder replied flipping up his hood. The black of the cloak was turning grey from the snow that danced in the wind. Odin shrunk back into his cloak further, trying to remember the last time Erebor had been loud with happiness. "I mean, Tyr is even bothered by it. And for Rock-Brains to notice something, then it's got to be dire."

Odin mentally chuckled, hearing the terrible nicknames Tyr and Balder called each other. "My mother and father say that the Easterlings have begun to mass near their little pond." Odin stated, standing to roll his wrist that held his sword. He greatly enjoyed feeling of his sword free itself every once in a while. Balder leaned back on his elbows, dusting himself free of snowflakes.

"Sounds like we're gonna be fighting soon, my friend," Balder laughed. Odin heard a whistle and instinctively raised his blade up to block a knife that was tossed his way. Balder's hand had made no motion of letting a blade loose, but surely enough one of his iron daggers clattered to his feet.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Odin asked indignantly, picking up his blade. "Honestly, I do not understand you."

"Feeling's mutual," Balder replied standing. "But I have one question for you…"

"And I have an answer, my friend."

Balder snorted at the remark, rolling his eyes. "Who would you rather fight, me or Tyr?" Odin's blue eyes narrowed and he took a wide step towards Balder, the blade of a sword meeting the blade of a long knife. His friend was a walking knife armory sometimes, from small throwing knives to long knives that could be wielded with no effort. "I'm taking that as me."

Odin brought up his hand and rested it on the tip of the sword and pushed, sending Balder skidding back a few feet. As Balder darted towards him with a unmatched speed, he heard a arrow become loosed from a bow and he jumped back with Balder skidding to a halt. Fili and Kili stood on the top of the ramp with Kili's fingers resting on the taut bowstring. Fili patted his brother's shoulder and he stood from his kneel, shouldering his bow.

"What's wrong?" Odin asked sheathing his sword.

Fili took a deep breath, a sign of concern. "Khamûl has been spotted on our borders, you two need to get inside," He stated. Odin narrowed his eyes at his older cousin. "Odin, not right now."

"No, I am old enough to fight. Let me fight," Odin said firmly. The prince's blood was boiling as Fili gave him a scolding look. For years, he had been told to stay inside because of his age, but he would no longer sit by idly while his family fought to protect this city. It was his city as much as it was his family's. Kili blinked in shock, looking between Odin and Fili.

"Odin!" A sonorous voice yelled up. The prince stiffened at the voice of his father, who was standing at the base of the ramp with his mother. He slinked down the hill, stopping before his parents, greatly ashamed of his words. He mentally chastised himself for being ungodly stubborn. As he looked at his father, he saw his dark blue eyes stern and swirling like the heavens before they released a great storm. His father's voice dropped low, "I know you desire to fight, but not against this."

"For years I have been trapped in here, and for once I want to help you. Why do you keep me locked away like something fragile?" Odin asked, he was done with staying hidden away. His cousins fought, his parents fought, but not him… "Tell me why I can't."

"It is a Nazgûl, it hurt your mother and has attempted to kill many others; most of those deaths succeeding." Thorin replied, trying to keep his voice even. "It is not your time, my son."

Odin sighed shortly, "Fine, I'll go." He returned back inside, and found Frigga sitting before the steps of his mother's throne. He looked upon her, catching the stress in her pale face and green eyes with her dark gold hair falling in long curls down her back. Seeing her worried made him approach her wearily, and sit beside her. One emerald eye looked up at him, and she leaned into him a bit. "What is the matter?"

"The Nazgûl approaching Erebor has me worried," Frigga said, defensively. "At least you're here, Odin."

"I got sent away, _again_," Odin growled. Frigga smiled and he gave her a look of confusion. "Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing," Frigga laughed as she hugged him making him tense up. He had been hugged by Frigga as a child, but that was quite a long time ago. "You just make me laugh."

"I was not trying to be funny," Odin grumbled. "I grow sick of sitting in the shadows, Frigga." She pulled away, and sighed. "You would not understand…"

"No, I do. It's hard being in the shadow of your cousins and your parents. I know it was hard for me to be in the shadow of Lady Merida. Your father and mother love you greatly and they don't want you to become hurt by something as silly as a Nazgûl."

"But-," Frigga placed a finger on his lips, hushing him. Her emerald eyes were sincere, almost fond. His heart shuddered at the look she was giving him. He was silently cursing that old childish crush he had on her and trying to force it down.

"Your father and mother don't want you to get hurt, ice brain." Frigga scolded as she leaned on his shoulder. "Now, be a good pillow and don't move."

"What if Balder or Tyr come in here?"

"Then you can move."

* * *

"Perhaps we should have let him fight, Thorin," Coruwen said gently, watching the black mass of Khamûl dart across the Desolation of Smaug. Her husband's grip tightened around Orcrist as she spoke and she sighed. "He will not be little forever, in fact he is able to make his own decisions."

"He needs to know that not everyone must fight," Thorin replied shortly. He turned to look at her, and his eyes were still angered. "His stubbornness is his greatest weakness."

Coruwen stared at him in disbelief; where in the world did he think that Odin gained most of his stubbornness from? Granted, she was firm in her ways, but Thorin was far worse. "Just as it is yours," She said her voice becoming edgy. He glared at her and looked the other way. "Thorin Oakenshield, that boy is your son. He is just as damned stubborn as you are. He has the same amount of fight that you have, and the same amount of pride. You are forcing him away by telling him to not fight."

"Get to the point."

Coruwen sighed. "I told you once that you could not fight, yet you did it anyway. What you are doing is what I tried to do to you once. And it backfired on me, greatly."

"I'll think about letting him fight."

Coruwen leaned on the Dragon Blade, feeling her stomach twist into worry caused knots. She still to this day never understood Thorin's stubbornness, and where it came from. He loved Odin so much that he wanted to keep his son protected from everything, even war. He tried to protect her once, and Thranduil took her away from him causing a great divide to occur. One thing she had learned about her husband; never separate him from his loved ones or the wrath of a mighty storm will smite you. She watched as Khamûl's fell beast rose from the eastern forest with a great roar.

The creature was silver from nose to long, flicking tail and possessed a wedge-shaped head with beady black eyes. It sprung into the air, long like a serpent with wings full of holes and great spines on its back. Upon its back sat Khamûl with his long black cloak flowing around him like cloud of sheer midnight and his crown of crude steel upon his head and his blade at his side. The fell beast rolled its shoulders and it flew overhead, stopping over Erebor with its tail curling around the peak. The mist divided as Khamûl let out a scream making most everyone cringe. The Nazgûl lord flew off into the East, giving everyone a bit of reprieve.

"Damn that thing!" Fili cursed as he came down the hill. Coruwen saw the concern and agitation in her nephew's features. His eyes were stern, and began to watch the skies. "What does he want?"

"He wants to scare us," Kili stated, drawing Fili's gaze. "He wants Erebor out of the picture to give him power of Dale."

"So you have been listening to me ramble, eh Kili?" Coruwen laughed. Kili flashed a smile at her and reached for Fili, gripping his brother's shoulder. "Nothing we can do right now, because if there was. I would have done it."

"I hate that Nazgûl," Fili grumbled, letting out a string of curses that made Thorin glance over his shoulder at his eldest nephew. Thorin cleared his throat and Fili halted mid-curse, tensing up.

"Watch your tongue, Fili," Thorin scolded, turning back to watching the east. "I do not like the appearance of Khamûl either, but Kili said it best; there is nothing we can do."

Coruwen placed her hand over Thorin's to draw his gaze up to her. "Send out ravens and send word to Dain; Khamûl is moving. We need to see what is going on." She ordered. Kili and Fili did as she said running up to Cairn with the orders. "I am going to call Freya. We need her more than ever."

* * *

_**Thoughts? Ideas? **_

**Please Review! **


	23. Chapter 23

_**Junnesejer Nahlot: Kings of the East be silenced **_

_**Bruniike: Savages **_

_**Dinok losahzid: Death is bitter**_

_**Drem Yol Lok: Patience, Fire, sky (A greeting) **_

_**Queen of the North**_

* * *

**-January 1, 3019-**

* * *

Freya watched the dwarves and Men of Dale pick up their pace around her. The dragoness had been called to Erebor by Coruwen for a negotiation trial nearly five days ago, why she did not know; but it was dire indeed. Her paws were crossed as her talons clicked against the stone like the heels of one's shoes. She saw the young prince walk by her without a single bit of fear in his step, much like his father who did not fear her. She saw much of Thorin in Odin, even when he was a baby. The dark hair and chiseled features of the king were prominent, but Coruwen's light blue eyes, height, and pointed ears were in their son. She had watched him grow from a small child to the strong young man he was now. He was interesting to her; more than elves or dwarves even.

Odin walked down the steps that led before her feet and he paused, his light blue eyes becoming uneasy. Freya smiled, wrapping her tail around her haunches. "_Drem Yol Lok, _Little Allfather," Freya greeted. Odin bowed to her, and approached her. "What brings you to me?"

Odin pressed a hand against her paw. "The other lords are beginning to assemble. They are coming to you, Freya," Odin stated, his tone slightly regretful. She wondered why and nudged him a bit with her nose making him yelp. "What? What do you want?"

Freya chuckled, "Little Odin, you sound like your father. A creature of pride and unfathomable stubbornness, you are. Though," She eyed him and he stiffened. "You have your mother's fair face and just nature."

"I know… Gods, I know," Odin hissed. "But, why were you poking me?"

"Why do you lament so? You are a prince, you have every right to be at the council," Freya said gently. Her nose hovered over him, inhaling the scent of him. He smelled of leather and rain, a rather strange combination of things in her mind. The prince sighed heavily and Freya smiled. "It is your father, isn't it?"

"Aye that I cannot deny. I do not understand why he protects me so. I am old enough to fight on my own and protect those I love, yet he still thinks of me a child," Odin admitted. Freya knew the King under the Mountain well, she knew his habits. This situation was familiar. She tapped her claws on the floor in thought. "Why are looking at me so?"

"Your father is a protective man, but he will come around, Little Prince," Freya soothed. Odin leaned into her paw, trying to hide in her great shadow. The dragoness considered him her own grandchild in a way. She loved him dearly, even when he would be old and grey she would love him, even in death. Coruwen's gold hair appeared in her vision, which drew her gaze quickly. She walked beside Thorin, and both held a great noble air about them that Freya had never sensed before. Behind them was Brand and his wife, followed by Thranduil and a red-headed elleth that appeared to be the Captain of the Guard. Fili and Kili came from a corridor behind her and the group formed a semi-circle around her, and the air became tense.

On her head, Freya felt something land. One amber eye flicked up to see Cairn sitting on her nose, watching the people below. "My lords and ladies, there is one reason that you have been called here. The threat of the One Ring has been rekindled in the world. The East is mustering under one banner and the old fortress on the Amon Lanc has begun to march their forces into the forests of Greenwood," Cairn addressed. "We are unprepared for whatever decides to march towards us. As the last remaining force that will stand against Sauron, we must muster enough of a force to withstand the East, Dol Guldur, _and_ the forces that might come from Mordor."

Freya saw the red-headed elleth shift uneasily in her spot and look to the floor. It was truly troubling to think of, but it was the truth. "We aren't the only force, Rohan will stand against Sauron-," Kili was stopped by Thranduil.

"Actually, Rohan cannot fight anymore. Word has reached me that King Théoden has been poisoned by Saruman the White. Rohan is useless," The Elvenking stated sharply. Freya clicked her talons on the ground, watching the King under the Mountain out of the corner of her eye. He seemed tense, though his face did not portray any emotion; his eyes glaring at Thranduil depicted every bit of said tension. Creatures of habit are what elves and dwarves are, she thought snidely. "Gondor will surely not come to our aid; we will be dead until they reach us."

"And you know this, how?" Thorin asked. The edge of his voice became threatening and Coruwen touched his shoulder, and the red-headed elleth flicked her gaze between the Elvenking and Thorin. "I did not ask you to come here, Elvenking. This matter is our own; we do not need the aid of the elves."

Freya hummed in her throat, considering if she should intervene. "I am here because I am a part of the Eastern realm, Thorin Oakenshield. I know that your people do not require my aid, but alas our realms are tied together," Thranduil replied, his voice even and calm. The dragoness admired his calm and collection under the harsh gaze of Thorin. However, even those gifted with such dispositions can break.

"Our realms are not tied together at all. In fact, your realm is your own; the only one that is tied to Erebor is Dale and Esgaroth."

"Oh? Esgaroth would not because it awfully far from Dale,"

Freya mentally sighed; men can turn into children in the tip of hat. She had wanted to not intervene, but Coruwen was unable to do anything to stop her husband, and the Lady Captain surely could not stop her commander. Mustering her words, Freya roared, "_Junnesejer, Nahlot!" _The group stared up at her in shock as her voice rattled the walls of Erebor. She stared down at Thorin and Thranduil in particular. "You are not children, think of this as if the world as you know it will come crashing down in a matter of moments as the thralls of war cut the throats of your men, take your children as slaves, and violate your women! I do not know if you see this as a threat, but I surely do. I know old habits do not die easily, but the dye of war has been cast."

"Forgive me, Queen of the North," Thranduil said quietly. Freya saw him become like a dog, with his head bowed in the utmost respect for her, but Thorin simply gave her a simple nod. Coruwen did not speak, but held her husband's shoulder tightly.

"Let me ask all of you something, what number is bigger? One or five?"

"Depends," Fili whispered.

"Five," Brand replied.

"Five," Freya repeated, holding up five talons and then slowly began to curl them inward. "…One. One army, a true army led by a ruthless man. One man could control thousands, and what purpose do we have?"

Freya looked at the faces below her, all of them greatly troubled, the Lady of Dale had her eyes shut with her face turned away. The room was deathly quiet, so quiet one could hear her great lungs taking in air and letting out smoke in her ire. She felt Cairn on her head, clicking his claws in troubled thought.

"That's correct, we have none. Our purpose to fight fell when elves and dwarves fought against the other; when Erebor fell to my son and the elves did not give aid. The lot of you may have armies of Free Folk, but with so many of them deciding to stay in their trees or hide beneath the ground; this task is not possible."

"Get to the point, snake," Thorin hissed and Freya growled. His insolence was going to be his death one day; _that_ she was sure of. He may have his beloved wife, who loved him dearly but if he went around speaking to her or other great creatures with so much disdain, he was going to end up a dead dwarf.

"Our lands have not fought in years, at least not as one army. Clearly, back-stabbing and pointing fingers are not getting people afar. None of those things prepare young ones for battles, much less some of the men that are many winters old. I am mostly surprised that this land has not fallen apart, and I wonder what holds it together sometimes."

"Love and friendship, I would guess," Coruwen said quietly, looking up at Freya sadly. "For nearly eighty years, my connection to Thranduil has kept this mountain city from tearing itself away. It is one of the few things that has kept you here, and has kept Thranduil and Thorin from killing each other."

"Eighty years, and all of this time you have been holding onto these… _Bruniike._ I am surprised it is just you, Little One. But let me ask your husband and King Thranduil this, how long can hatred hold two races apart?"

"I would not know, my father simply told me from a young age that dwarves were not to be trusted. I suppose the hatred of our two races has transcended the lapse of time. But Coruwen has shown me that is it is possible to trust the other," Thranduil answered.

"Aye, it is true. My wife has begun to show me the light that the elves possess," Thorin stated. Freya flicked her tail, brushing up against Coruwen and the elleth gave her a bow of her head. Once content with the logic of both kings, Freya let them continue on with their meeting. After her intervention, Thorin seemed rather quiet and Thranduil along with him. It was strange for both kings, who were both known for being rather vocal, to be silent.

The Lord of Dale, Brand, was gifted with his great-grandfather's venerable nature put an idea on the table for the others to work with. "If I may, if we can muster the dwarves, elves, and Men under one banner to fight against Khamûl. Then after the battle and the war, the two races can go back to hating the other with my people being neutral," Brand offered. "How does that sound to you, my lords?"

"I see no wrong with it," Thranduil agreed. Freya smiled at the eagerness of the Elvenking, but saw the conviction in the eyes of Thorin. She mentally rolled her eyes. The proposal of Brand was just in every way; at least to her it was not wrong. She glanced down at Coruwen, who was whispering something in Thorin's ear and he merely ignored her. The queen gave up and placed a hand on Freya's paw much like her son, who was still hiding in her shadow.

"Fine," Thorin replied.

"I am glad to hear your approval upon the matter, King under the Mountain," Brand said with a relieved smile. He looked to Freya, and she gave him a nod. "Is there much more we need to discuss, Lady Dragon?"

"Not to my knowledge," Freya said. She stretched her wings a bit, careful to not bump Odin. The dragoness let the meeting come to an end and watched as Thranduil leave with his female Captain and the boys leave as well. Brand departed with his wife and a man much older than he, leaving Thorin and Coruwen with her. "I have yet to understand why you continue to fight with the Elvenking."

Thorin scoffed, ignoring her. He had become rather set in his ways as of late, he was reverting back to his old self, something she did not enjoy seeing. It was bothering Coruwen as well, for the elleth had become taken back mentally and physically. Under normal circumstances, the lady would have caught both Thranduil and Thorin for their stubbornness. But she had not, and it bothered Freya greatly.

"He is an elf, and he belongs in his forest," Thorin grumbled. Coruwen looked at him, and shut her eyes with her face downcast. The king glanced over his shoulder, and Freya saw a bit of regret in his eyes. Freya nudged Odin away while his parents focused on the other, to which he slinked away into a corridor. The dragoness laid her head down, giving her view of both people she held dear to her.

"Why are you two at odds?" Freya asked quietly, keeping her tone gentle. "What happened to the two people who I knew so well? The two people who did not care for racial differences or the old ways? Have the two of you forgotten what you brought forth?"

"Freya…" Coruwen muttered, stroking the bridge above the dragoness' eye. "It is hard to explain."

"It is not, you are making it difficult," Thorin replied in a deadly tone. "I told you my thought upon the matter, yet you disagree."

"I disagree because it is what must be done, and has the most logical sense."

Freya blinked in confusion; the two had not fought in years… At least not like this. She raised her head, and growled deep within her chest causing both to look up at her. Coruwen covered her mouth with one hand; it was then that Freya saw. Her dear one was…Dying. She knew this fear of the king's, for it was clear to see in his face when he heard his wife cough. With one gentle breath, Freya exhaled over Coruwen and the elleth ceased coughing, yet her hand was painted red.

"You fear her death, King under the Mountain," Freya stated. _"Dinok los ahzid-_Death is a bitter being. I empathize with you, great king." The dragoness nudged Thorin, and he raised a hand to her nose, giving her a pained look mixed with true fear. She had never seen him truly frightened before. She watched as Coruwen walked off and Thorin let out a shaky breath, placing his hands on her nose with his forehead touching her scales. "Do not despair, Thorin, son of Thrain. She loves you and-,"

"Freya, I am losing her. I cannot hold her anymore without feeling her spirit slip away. I cannot kiss her, or feel her spirit. I am losing a part of myself, I am losing that which I love more than all of the jewels underneath this great mountain. I am damned fool for keeping her shut away."

Freya laid her head on the ground allowing him to look her in the eyes. She let her breath pass over him, trying to calm him. "I know the feeling of losing someone dear to you. But do not distance yourself from her, Thorin. Do want you have always done and love her; love her until the end of her days when she draws her last breath. You are the one she chose to be with over the countless ellyn in this world. Always remember that, and remember that statement when she has passed on into the Halls of Mandos."

"Damn you and your honeyed words," He whispered playfully.

Freya chuckled softly, "When your lover has passed, look to your son. He has her eyes, and her kindness."

"I shall, Freya."

"You are dear friend to me, though we have not had the easiest of beginnings. I respect your friendship, Great King."

Thorin took a step back, giving her a firm nod before walking off. She smiled sadly, the best a mourning dragon could. Her great heart shuddered in her chest and a small, crystalline tear slipped from her amber eyes. Bitterly she thought, life is a cruel hearted bitch.

* * *

Thranduil sat in his chambers flipping through the pages of an old book with Tauriel standing at the door. After the meeting, he needed time alone and this is where he wound up. Having removed his crown, one might have assumed they were looking at his father rather than him. Oropher was known for not wearing his crown in the presence of others, even of different race. In the back of his mind, he could still hear Freya's booming voice scolding everyone.

"My lord," Tauriel stated firmly. His green eyes flicked up to his Captain, who held her hand on the doorknob. "The queen is here for you." He gave the Captain a nod and she opened the door.

He found it strange that he did not hear the door; he was currently not in his right mind. Coruwen came before him, no longer wearing her diadem or the fine dresses she typically wore. She wore a simple dress that appeared elven by the craftsmanship of it. It made her appear more ethereal in his opinion. Tauriel had left them, and he attempted to stand, but Coruwen raised a hand for him to stay. She looked sickly, her skin ghostly pale.

"My dear, is something wrong?" Thranduil asked quietly as she came to sit beside him. He took her hands and withheld a gasp when he felt how cold they were. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that her health was one of the many benefactors that caused Thorin's irritation. As he looked into Coruwen's eyes, he saw that they were blank and pained. "Coruwen, my dear, what is wrong?"

"Thranduil, I apologize for my husband's brashness earlier. He…He is not himself as of late," Coruwen replied softly, her voice ever so slightly hoarse. "I came here to ask something of you and to tell you something terrible."

"Your health is worsening, I can feel it," He muttered, stroking her hair. Her blue eyes threatened to spill tears. In his heart, he could help the heartache that lanced through him. Thranduil considered her his own, and to lose to her would be a cruel fate. "But I will let you tell me what you wish to say."

The queen swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. "You all ready can tell that I am starting to return to Mandos. At the most, I have a year to live, at best. With the Easterlings mustering, it may be less than that, and I need you to do something for me."

"Anything," Thranduil pushed away his emotions of grief. "Just name it, my dear."

Coruwen gave him a soft smile, "When I pass, look after my son; look after Odin until you depart these lands for Valinor. He will outlive all of Thorin's line, and even his wife should he take one. All of his life, Odin has known you and trusts you. You consider him your grandchild, and you are the only man I trust with my son's life outside of Erebor."

Thranduil kissed her forehead, how dearly he wished to keep her on this earthly plain. From her eyes, tears slipped free making him only watch as she broke down. Death scared her, whereas most elves would it rather peculiar. In truth, the elves feared that one day they would simply fade away into Mandos and be reincarnated. But Coruwen would truly die, just as Lúthien had done. The queen's imminent death frightened her, and made her force others away. Now, it was her wish for him to keep watch over Odin until he passed on. It was the least he could do for her.

"And as you can tell I am slowly slipping away. I had hoped it would not be like this at all; truthfully I wanted to pass away after Thorin or with him. I can honestly say that I have not regretted this life in the slightest." She laughed humorlessly and he felt her grip his hands tightly. "I wish that your relationship with my husband was not strained, but I cannot change the past. Though I all ready have a man I call father, you truly have filled that space in my heart. And I thank you for it, Thranduil."

It was then he almost choked on his emotions, and pulled her into his chest hugging her tightly. He stroked her hair, trying to ease the heartache. It was as if he was losing his own child, like he was watching his older son's life fade away. He could do nothing but sit and watch like a helpless animal in a glass cage. He heard her take a shaky breath, burying her face into his robe. He wanted to hush her and tell her that he would be fine, but he would be telling her a lie. He was fine at all; he might not see her after the war that awaited them. The Elvenking might find her dead amongst the millions, but he quickly cast that out of his mind. He had seen too many die in his life, too many he considered family starting with his father.

"_I hope that you will live to see a brilliant dawn, my daughter,"_ He whispered as he leaned up against the wall with her still in his arms. The saying had not applied to his father or his elder son, both of whom died with the first breath of night. He did not want to utter the words to someone dear to him; in fact he did not want this scenario to happen anymore. He fought to keep Legolas in his life and he had played a few parts in keeping the elleth before him close. Maybe, he thought, fighting was too much.

* * *

_A lion stood before a great snake with sickly green venom dripping from its fangs like rain. The lion snarled and leapt at the snake, which merely slithered to the side, grasping the lion with its tail and tossing it around. The lion wriggled about, snarling and roaring until its teeth met the snake's tail. The snake howled in pain throwing the lion aside. The lion rose and darted towards the snake, biting its head until blood dripping from the snake's skull. The great lantern eyes of the snake flashed as its teeth bit down on the lion, letting its venom seep into the wounds and it tossed the lion aside where it tumbled down defeated. The lion stood shakily, letting out a weakened roar and the snake hissed-. _

Coruwen sat up abruptly, her breath coming out in shallow breaths. She withheld a few coughs as she escaped her bedroom and out onto the balcony, where the wind bit at her skin. All she saw as of late was death or flame. She silently cursed her foresight… She hated it, she hated that it turned into a whimpering child. Her breath escaped her lungs into the terrible, raspy cough that she had adopted these last few months. Her talk with Thranduil had turned into her simply crying on his shoulder for what felt like hours and Thorin had kept quiet around her again. She swept a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down.

"This is getting out of hand," She whispered, leaning on the rail heavily.

"That it has," Thorin's voice replied gently. Coruwen whirled around, looking at Thorin who was standing in the archway with a blank expression on his face. How he could creep up on her nowadays made her uneasy. It used to be the other way around, and it used to be rather funny. He walked toward her, and pressed a hand on her low back. "I have been a fool."

"In the fact that you are pushing me away?"

Thorin cringed, "Sadly, yes." He took her face with one hand and she saw his concern, self inflicted agony, and true apology all in his dark blue eyes. "I thought if I kept you away from me, I would not be hurt by your death. It seemed to make sense in my head, but I suppose my heart could not take it. Watching you slip away is a fate worse than death."

"If I had to watch you die, I believe I would be rather upset as well. But berating yourself is not an excellent idea, it will poison you and could possibly kill you," She said, trying to make it sound as if the idea of distance was entirely his. She kissed his forehead in an attempt to soothe his worry. "I do not hate you, but you did hurt me by this silly idea."

"And for that I am deeply sorry," He whispered. This was not a saying many heard from the mouth of Thorin Oakenshield; if someone mentioned that he said it, they typically were told they lied. He had his pride, and it was greater than the Lonely Mountain, but the one person he allowed it down around was her. "I understand if you do not trust me anymore… I accept all disdain for me."

"You truly are a martyr sometimes," He gave her a quizzical look and frowned. "I will not hate you; I simply am a bit upset. Think of this; how could I hate the man that fathered our son, stole my heart many, many years ago, and showed me that love is possible even amongst warring races?"

"Point made," He smirked pressing a small kiss on her lips. "Now, tell me, why are you out here?"

"Foresight is truly a unforgiving mistress. I keep dreaming of animals, ones that I call our nephews or son, and they are fighting other creatures or even flame. I awaken before the end for I cannot face them. They are filled with fire and blood, screams and the crack of a whip upon skin."

Thorin let out a breath and Coruwen could not help but sigh. "This is unsettling, just so we are clear on that."

"If they were about butterflies and unicorns, I would not be unsettled and out here, now would I?" The king laughed at her snide remark. His laugh brought a smile to her lips, for if she laughed, she would cough. She was all ready exhausted from earlier, and could not take another outburst. "I missed your laugh."

He eyed her curiously, still with a smile on his face. "Did you now?"

"I did, i hear our son and the boys laugh, but rarely do I hear the sound of my husband truly laughing. You," She held back a smile as his hand crept up her back. "Are one of the few men I have been able to see pull off a fake laugh without sounding humorless. A true gift, in my book."

"How do you know I am not faking it right now?" He pulled her face closer to his and she giggled.

"Because you're being playful _and_ you would not fake a laugh around me."

"And I thought I had you pegged."

"I have known you for eighty years. I am fairly confident I know pretty much everything about you, and if I don't I can surely find out." She pulled away from him and cast a smirk over her shoulder at him making him follow her.

She could only get so far away until he caught her waist, pulling her backward and onto the floor with him on top of her. She laughed, but was halted by him kissing her. "Then tell me one thing that you know," He teased.

"Red gives you a headache," She stated and he narrowed his eyes, trying to justify that answer. Two lean fingers began to twirl a light grey strand of wavy hair around while he thought over her statement. "Don't think too hard, you might hurt yourself."

"Shut up," He quipped, as she tried to sit up, he pinned her back down causing her to gasp. "I know one thing that annoys you,"

"Oh?"

"You have a tenacity to play favorites with the boys; you tend to favor Fili over Kili."

"So what? Fili is far calmer than his brother, and doesn't act like a twitter pated idiot around girls." Thorin chuckled, poking her sides and she leapt away from him, gripping her sides. "Not funny."

"Oh, but I find it funny," he laughed.

"It hurts," She complained. "It is like being poked with a sharp stick."

"And how would you know that?"

"Elrohir and Elladan used to poke Arwen and I when we were in our lessons with Erestor. They thought it was funny, Arwen and I did not."

"I was testing to see how fast you could move."

Coruwen stared at him in disbelief. "Testing, that was a bloody lie."

"Is it?"

"Yes, you were doing it because you thought it was funny." He moved towards her and grabbed her waist when she tried to move away. She looked up at him, his dark blue eyes playful. She leaned up, stealing a small kiss from him with his roughened hand stroking her jaw line. She smiled as his hand drifted off of her face. "You are a terrible man."

"Am I?"

"Yes, yes you are." He touched foreheads with her, simply looking into her eyes as they brightened with true happiness. A sight she figured he must have not seen in a long time. She could have easily lied to him and said she was happy, but she had forgotten what it was like to be this way with him. For the longest time, when the days of Odin's youth had passed into memory, their happiness and joy had faded. The days had become grim with no song able to fix anything. "It has been a long since we have enjoyed the other's presence like this… What happened?"

"Sauron happened, love." Thorin sat beside her with her head on his shoulder. "I suppose we tried to fix it, but could not because we knew these days would only come."

Coruwen's smile faded as she nestled her face against his pulse. "I cannot even remember when we last laughed or last sat alone like this. But then again, it may be the last time for a long while."

He shut his eyes, resting cheek against her head. Her heart ached when she thought of that. Yes, it would be that longest stretch of time where they would not be able to take a comfort like this, one so simple. Her thoughts whispered one thing, "War is coming."

* * *

**A/N: If you guys figured out the vision, I accept all hatred towards me and some that will coming towards me eventually. **

**Ok, that aside, I have been watching WAY too much Game of Thrones and thus quoted Robert Baratheon in this chapter when Freya spoke about the war that is coming and I took the House Stark reference, i just simply reworded some of it. I also quoted Arnbjorn from Skyrim about Blue giving him a headache**, (_I really need to stop procrastinating.) _

**I am sorry for the lateness of all of this, I have a cold and thus cannot focus my brain long enough to write. **

**Thank you all for joining this far, it means a lot to me and I thank you from the bottom of my little writer heart. **

**Review? **


	24. Chapter 24

_**Old Wars Craft New Warriors**_

* * *

**-February 25, 3019-**

* * *

Odin watched the cloudy sky, his mind wandering off into the very heavens that he watched. The days were becoming short as the threat of the East loomed overhead. The prince had become accustomed to the sound of a hammer upon metal and the sound of the Queen Dragon that lay in his halls. The smell of smoke was nothing new to him anymore, or the sound of his mother's crumbling health. Yes, he knew. He knew from the look his father gave her when she faced away from him; he knew from the looks of concern or grief given by lesser people. He silently was dreading every moment his mother coughed or the moments when she would turn blank. Her smiles were forced, her touch cold like the ice that formed on the slopes of Erebor in winter. His mother was a strong woman, but behind all of the smoke and mirrors she was fragile.

Each time he heard his mother and father, he would cast away these encumbering ideas to show them he was not worried in the slightest. Mindlessly, he played with the frayed leather on the pommel of his sword. Nothing was calming him down anymore, not even sparring with the twins or his cousins. He leaned against the mountain's edge, hoping by some stroke of luck all of this madness would end and everything would revert to the old ways. He was there in Rivendell when Frodo proclaimed he would venture to Mordor with the Ring. The boy didn't even know what he was getting himself into for pity sake. He would be surprised if Frodo even came back; the lad had his heart in the right place and Odin had become friends with the hobbit. Had Gimli not decided to go, he would have gladly gone with the hobbit. That small creature unleashed a beast no one in Middle Earth could contain, not even the Valar. Frodo had cut the chain that held wrath and war allowing them to crash down upon all races.

"Damn it," Odin muttered, shutting his eyes tightly. Frodo was a fool, a brave one but still a fool. He hoped that the little creature would be safe. He heard a low rumble above him, and he opened one eye to see Freya's great amber eyes staring at him curiously. Against his palm, he felt a cold nose and he looked over to see Fenrir standing before him, his dark grey fur up to his shoulders covered in thick cakey snow. The prince scratched the ears of his hound, trying to ignore the dragon above him. He stood, feeling his muscles wake up from their cold induced dormancy. "What is it, Freya?"

The dragoness smiled, revealing the tip of one pearly tooth. She snaked her head back inside and Odin shook his head, taking a hold of Fenrir's collar before walking back inside. The long lanky legs of Fenrir moved in time with the prince's steps as they passed the tail tip of Freya. It seemed everywhere one desired to walk a part of her was in the way. Odin released Fenrir's collar, but the hound did not depart his master's side. He had remembered Maugrim, the hound that had chosen his father over all others. That hound was a great beast, full of pride and strength. Maugrim had lived longer than Nyx, and died on a hunt; he died doing what he loved most. Odin hoped that Fenrir would do the same.

"There's the princeling," A voice jeered. A rough, gravelly voice that belonged to Tyr. Odin flicked his gaze back to the younger twin, who was mirroring his father with his hands upon the end of a great war hammer and he was dressed in heavy steel armor that clanked when he so much as moved. A great difference from the swift and stealthy Balder. "We've been looking for you."

"Tyr now is not a good time," Odin replied flatly. Tyr arched one eyebrow and eyed him. The warrior swung his hammer onto his back, and leapt down, appearing like a great bear had leapt down from its cave to challenge an enemy. Tyr poked his shoulder and Odin sighed, annoyed. "Why are you bothering me?"

"I am not bothering you, Odin. Your cousins are looking for you and said something involving sparring," Tyr stated simply. "Balder is annoying me and I want to escape him while he's talking to some girl."

Odin wanted to point out that Balder annoyed Tyr no matter the occasion. He gave Tyr a nod, motioning for him to follow him. He whistled for Fenrir to search for his cousins and the hound leapt forward, running up the steps and he barked in the deep sonorous voice that could rattled someone's chest cavity. Kili appeared out of the shadows the formed behind the main door with his hand rubbing Fenrir's head.

"There you are," Kili smiled. "Fili and I have been searching high and low for you. Where'd you run off to?"

"Had to clear my head," Odin replied. "What do you need me for?"

Kili walked up to his cousin, gripping his shoulders tightly. Odin had often questioned what went on in Kili's head, for he was not as thought dependant as Fili. No, Kili acted on a whim but could piece together a strategy in a matter of seconds. Now, was one of the famous Kili-is-thinking moments as Fili rightfully named them.

"We need you to come spar against Freya," Kili stated. Odin's heart stopped and he started to pull away from Kili, but his cousin yanked on his arm toward the lower levels where the dragoness slept. Tyr smirked and waved at Odin innocently. He mouthed a curse at Tyr, who rolled his eyes. The broad steel gates of Freya's chambers stood open revealing the mighty dragoness standing with Thorin at her feet. Odin and Kili stopped for a moment, watching the king intently. In Thorin's hand rested Orcrist, unsheathed and flickering in the dim light like a elegant spire of silver and white. The dragoness' tail flicked back and forth before she sprung forward, one blood red paw attempting to slash the king. To another dragon, these swipes were like being batted with a feather, but to someone so small they could knock them into a pillar or a wall, possibly breaking it. Thorin raised Orcrist, nicking the dragoness' paw as she tried to squish him like a fly. Freya used her tail like a whip, grabbing the king and tossing him aside where her mighty paw hovered above him creating a cage.

"Caught like a bear in a trap, little king," Freya laughed as Thorin stood. He tapped her talon telling her to remove them. He gave her an incline of his head. "I will take that as best two out of three, Thorin."

"You are far bigger than me, Great One," Thorin stated. "I am surprised you did not squish me."

"Tempting," Freya teased as she circled around to see into the doorway. Odin was indeed surprised that Freya had not taken the chance to flatten his father. The dragon and king did not have the easiest past, but Odin saw that they at least got along now. The amber eyes of the dragoness landed on him and he shrunk away. "There is the Little Prince; we have been searching for you."

Odin and Kili entered the cavernous room and saw the Freya appeared quite small in this room. It was lit by a dim torchlight that casted great looming shadows upon the walls that almost appeared like dancing phantoms that wavered when Freya's great horse head passed nearby. Oddly, the walls were pitch black with a few rocks remaining steely grey. The dragoness had most likely burned them when she would use her fire. In the corner, sat his mother with Cairn beside her. The small raven was being subjected to his queen pulling feathers from him to use to make arrows.

"So I've heard," Odin replied casting a small glare back at Kili, who was intently watching Coruwen create her arrows. "What is it you need, Freya?"

"I desire to test your steel against my claws, little one. If you truly are the son of the Oakenshield then you will fight me without a scratch."

Odin's stomach twisted painfully, but he nodded to her. The dragoness gave him a wolfish grin before her raised talons swiped at him. He did not have a moment's notice before her talons scraped the ground sending out an ear piercing scream that made him flinch. He unsheathed his blade knocking aside her talons that tried to cut him. When her left paw smashed into the stone floor, he raised his blade cutting her paw making her withdraw it and knock him aside like he was nothing. The wind escaped his lungs and took a gulp of air trying to regain his footing as Freya bounded up to him. The ferocity in her eyes would have made most cower in fear, and for a moment he wanted to hide from her fiery gaze. The dragoness' head came down to his level with her teeth flashing once before they stopped around him, but no pain came. She had halted her jaws. Freya's breath was hot against his skin as she panted and she raised her head, closing her maw.

"Good until you fled. Had I not been careful, you would have looked like a pin cushion, and moreover, dead," Freya pointed out. "When fighting things bigger than you, you must aim high; typically the neck or behind the jaw where the Life Vein runs. This is the bane of all beasts, including Fell Beasts."

"The mount of the Nazgûl…" Odin whispered, he could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears as the adrenaline coursed through him like fire catches dry grass. He rested the tip of his blade in a crack that Freya had made in the stone. "Why are you teaching me this?"

Freya chuckled. "Think about it while I fight you again, little prince. If you want someone who could easily take down a Nazgûl mount. Fili would be the best at showing you how to aim one's blade at the Life Vein."

Odin glanced over at Fili, and then back at Freya. "I'll give it another shot," He told her and the dragoness spoke a word he did not know of, but she sounded pleased. He took up his blade once more, watching Freya closely. He watched the flicking tail, the talons that held up her great, lengthy body, and finally her head and neck that stood still as if waiting. She was being patient.

"_A good warrior is patient, and never strikes first unless provoked," _Odin could hear his father's old teachings in his head that never made a lick of sense; until now. It now made sense, for Freya was a warrior but instead of blades or arrows, she used tooth and flame. _"All warriors learn from their kindred. A pup learns from a wolf, but is aided by nature. You will learn from me, but it is how you wield the things I teach you and your disposition that decides the fight." _

Odin's mind snapped back into place when he heard Freya's tail whip the air making him flinch. The dragoness' talons flashed, nicking the front of his blade and his grip slipped a bit. His hands clawed for his sword and ended up gripping the blade that slid through his hand. Red dripped from his palm and he tightened his hand into a fist. In between Freya's front paws was his sword, he mentally cursed himself from letting his grip slip. He glanced up at Freya, who was standing still for him, but her tail's tip flicked back and forth. She was thinking…. He needed his sword, and he needed it before she got done thinking. Without a second thought, he ran for his sword but heard Freya growl with her claws attempting to grab him in her clutches. When his slick fingers grabbed the sword, he felt a tug on the back of his shirt.

All of a sudden, he was up in the air, looking at Freya. Her lips were curled back into a snarl with wisps of smoke escaping the gaps in her teeth. Odin hung limply in her clutches until her nose came up to him, huffing the scent of smoke across him. He held his breath and kicked her nose making her jerk back in pain. It was a long fall to the ground and he landed on his side. Pain shot down his back and left side as he rolled onto his feet, but found he had no balance and fell back.

* * *

"Odin!" Fili shouted. Odin could surely hear the people around him, but could only see blurs. That; was not one of his finest moments. His vision was slowly being taken over a creeping darkness that ever so slowly took him.

"I think he gave himself a concussion," Fili stated as looked his cousin over. He heard his aunt's boot heels upon the stone and turned back to see her walking towards him. He could only watch as Coruwen stroked Odin's face whispering to him to come back. Fili looked up at Freya, who was rubbing the tip of her nose with the back of her paw and slightly closing one eye. He admitted it; this was not one of the best ideas Odin has come up with rivaling one of Kili's ideas to climb in a tree and then proceed to fall onto the ground and break his arm in three different places. Coruwen sat back on her heels, and then called for Kili. His brother came bounding up and took the orders from their aunt. "What'd he do?"

"Gave himself a minor head injury, nothing was done to the brain luckily," Coruwen said quietly. She looked up at Freya, who was lying on the ground, front paws crossed and tail wrapped around her haunches. "Do not hold him up so high next time. I know we are trying to teach him some things, but Fell Beasts are not that tall."

"I am terribly sorry, Dear One. I shall not do it again," Freya apologized, shutting her eyes. Fili knew Freya meant well, but sometimes her dragon nature peeked through all of her calmness and wisdom. He was surprised that she even admitted her mistake. "Is there any blood?"

He wondered why she would ask such a thing until Coruwen removed her hand from her son's head to reveal it as covered in dark red blood. It was the side Odin had landed on when he had fallen. He seen blood many times, but it seemed worse to see on his cousin. He sighed, watching Thorin walk up to Coruwen and place his hand upon her upper back. After a few moments of silence, Kili came back with something wrapped in a cloth and handed it to Coruwen. Kili returned to his side, and Fili nudged him a bit.

"What is that?" Fili whispered. Kili's gold eyes became dark as he watched the floor. "Kili…"

"Something to fix Odin's head, because he's an idiot for kicking Freya in the nose," Kili hissed. Fili gave him a look and his brother shrunk back. Surely, he cannot be blaming his cousin for idiotic ideas since he was the lord of such things. "He didn't mess himself up, did he?"

"No, just managed to knock himself out and cut his head a bit," Fili replied. "He was doing quite well actually."

Kili bounced on the balls of his feet, "Yeah, really well."

Fili's attention fell back on Coruwen as she stood; wiping hr hands on the remnants of the cloth, for the rest had been torn to make a wrapping for Odin's head. He was surprised that Odin hadn't broken anything or injured himself further. He saw Freya's claws slide under Odin's limp body and she cradled him in the crook of her forearms as if he were her own child. Coruwen ran a hand through her hair before returning to plucking Cairn's feathers. Fili swore that Cairn was going to a naked raven after this, and he sat at his aunt's feet, watching her pluck old feathers from the molting raven lord. In truth, he had never watched her make one her arrows before. They differed greatly from Kili's arrows, aside for one of her own that he kept in his quiver. Elven arrows were long with arrowheads of finely made steel that were sharper than dagger points, whereas Dwarven arrows were thicker and resembled crossbow bolts to a certain degree.

"You should do this more often, my queen. I quite like the fact that I don't look like a waddling black puffball," Cairn commented as Coruwen plucked two long feathers tipped with white from his neck plumage. Coruwen was intently focused on her work that she forgot all about the chattering raven that was pulling his feathers out, literally. Fili watched Kili, who had taken up archery practice a few feet away from everyone else. Fili assumed that Kili was testing how fast he could loose an arrow from his quiver, but instead his brother simply stroked the white tipped feathers of one arrow.

Why was he hesitating? Fili narrowed his eyes at his brother, watching him closely. It was then that he saw Kili's fingers hovering over one arrow where it was plucked free and loosed in a matter of seconds. Never before had he seen his brother move that quickly. He smirked and leaned back against Coruwen, feeling her hand pat his head softly. He glanced back at Cairn, who was still pulling feathers out of his wings.

"Say, Cairn have you flown over the Easterling encampments lately?" Fili asked. The raven hummed as he spat out more feathers.

"Not in a while, but I remembered them having a big group of horses and men with them," Cairn replied. "Whenever they decide to wander over here, then we will be ready."

"I'd rather have them avoid Erebor," Fili murmured as he shut his eyes, listening to the sound of Kili's arrows meet their target. He could hear the sound of Freya's heavy breathing, and the ever so faint humming of his aunt above him. Many times he had heard her sing and loved to hear her voice. Though her health had prohibited such songs from coming from her, and the disease had also taken its toll on her voice that now she was reduced to humming or singing quietly and not a sound could be made if you wanted to hear. In the halls nearby, he could hear the slight clicking of boot heels, ones that sounded oddly familiar. He shut out the sound and listened to his aunt again.

"What in the world?" Dís' voice asked mildly shocked. Fili opened his eyes, looking at his mother, who was staring up at Freya in shock. His mother had one streak of grey in long hair that she typically tried to hide, but now with it down he could see it rather prominently and it was becoming whiter. Dís glared at Thorin, who was watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Thorin, you told me she left!"

"I never said she left, dear sister. I, for one, told you that Freya would be staying down in this old room. Who ever told you that Freya was leaving was sorely mistaken," Thorin replied calmly as his fingers enclosed around Orcrist's hilt. Fili looked at Kili, who was not looking at their mother and his fingers slightly began to tremor. His brother was going to get himself into a heap of trouble. "Kili, are you all right?"

Kili glanced back at Thorin, his gold eyes showing hints of nervousness. "Yes, I'm fine," Kili said quickly as he released another arrow into the target. "Why?"

"Your hands shake when you lie," Thorin pointed out flatly. "Did you honestly believe that Freya was going to leave?"

Kili did not turn around, but lowered his hands. "I didn't want mother to worry. I know how Freya makes her worry," Kili muttered ashamed. Dís let out a small chuckle, walking over to Kili and taking his shoulders. She whispered something to him that made him nod slowly. His mother turned around and came to sit beside Coruwen.

"What happened to Odin?" She asked. Fili turned his gaze backward to his mother and leaned his head against her leg. Her hand rested on his head, softly stroking his hair that tempted his soul to sleep.

"He kicked Freya's nose, fell, and gave himself a nasty head wound. Luckily, he didn't damage his brain; we also are under the assumption that he hurt his side as well," Coruwen said gently. Dís let out a hum, still her hand passing through her old son's hair. "I do not know what possessed him to do that…"

"Simple idea. He may be like Kili and think of things on a whim rather than logic," Fili stated, his words slightly slurring together as his mother stroked his hair. He heard a scoff and he opened one eye to see Thorin tracing the Cirth runes on Orcrist's blade with his thumb. "It's a thought…"

"Odin does not think like that. What he did is called instinct," Thorin replied gruffly. "Any person would have kicked Freya too had they been held up that high, waiting to be chewed on."

"Uncle…" Fili sighed. He shut his eyes again, letting himself drift off to sleep.

* * *

Coruwen watched as Fili's breathing deepened and soon Dís removed her fingers from his hair. Much of it had come loose from its braids and fall loosely around his shoulders. Having removed the last of Cairn's molting feathers, she had crafted each of her arrows with the white tipped ones in the back and the ones with ebony veins in the front. She had long since forgotten the art of making the arrows of her kindred, but after analyzing the arrow that Kili carried; she remembered.

"He was thinking a bit irrationally, love," Coruwen pointed out as she stood, careful to not move Fili as she came to stand beside Kili. He was beginning to lose focus after Dís had arrived, and she carefully lowered his arm and he glanced back at her. She inclined her head towards the target, telling him to continue. After he returned to firing arrows into the target, she slid off her bow from her right shoulder and felt the taut string beneath her fingertips, recalling old memories of her father teaching her the ways of the bow. Over her shoulder, she saw Thorin looking at her darkly. "We all do it. He was simply defending himself like you said, but I will admit he should have done it closer to the ground."

"And not kicked me right on the soft spot on my nose," Freya put in as she opened her eyes. The great pupils of Freya expanded in the darkness making her appear like an animal catching the scent of blood. "Little Prince does not know the anatomy of a dragon yet he kicked me on the very tip of my nose." She lowered her nose to the floor, letting the cold seep through her scales.

"I am terribly sorry, Freya," Coruwen said quietly as she pulled back an arrow to the best of her ability, feeling her atrophied arm give her grief. She had not used her left arm for the means of war in a long time. Still the muscle underneath the skin felt fibrous and would not allow her to pull back her arrows as far or allow her to move that arm up over her head. Her arm trembled, and she released her breath, lowering her bow down. Kili looked up at her quizzically to which she gave the motion of her arm to him and he gave her a small look of pity. He released his last arrow and then swung his bow onto his back.

"Pull back again," Kili whispered. Coruwen pulled back on the arrow again, feeling her arm begin to tremble again. Gently, Kili's hand wrapped around her arm, helping her to pull the arrow all the way back to her cheek. His hand released her arm and she was surprised to find it still a bit shaky, but able to hold up her arrow. When her thoughts drifted away, the arrow twanged and landed dead centre of the target.

"Kili how did you-?"

Kili smirked, "Used my head." His gold eyes shined brightly with pride. She smiled back at him and he helped her with the several practice shots until she was able to pull back further than she could have ever before on her own. After a while, her arm felt like lead forcing her to stop practicing. She sat beside Thorin and rested her hand on his knee. Kili sat beside Fili and began to play with the tips of his brother's hair as he slept. "Should we take Odin back to his room?"

"I'll have Freya place him there; go ahead and run up there," Coruwen replied. Freya still had Odin cradled in her arms, but she had dozed off with the tip of her nose hovering over him protectively. Smoke escaped her nostrils and her breath was heavy. Coruwen rose with Thorin and together they walked over to Freya, and gently ran a hand against the warm scales of the dragoness. Coruwen smiled as Freya cracked open her amber eyes and slowly Coruwen saw the fire orange veins mingled with dark amber jump to life. "Hello Freya."

"Dear One, what is it you need?" Freya yawned as her jaws clenched as her great jaws shut. Thorin patted the dragoness' paw and she smiled. Coruwen motioned to Odin, who still was asleep in her arms and warmed by her scales. "Right," The dragoness stood and carried Odin in one paw, climbing clumsily out of the cavern.

"And you say you do not love her," Coruwen teased as she took her husband's hand. He scoffed making her giggle. "Thorin, she loves our son like he was one of her own. She enjoys your presence and respects you; many years ago that was all you wanted from her."

"No, many years ago I wanted her head on a pike," Thorin replied shortly, his sapphire eyes flashing darkly. Coruwen knew she could never get him to own up to the fact that he indeed liked Freya; he simply was too stubborn. All she could do was assume that he liked the dragoness. Dís and Fili joined them on their way back up to the higher levels, passing Freya as she returned to her cavern beneath the great halls. Had there not been any light in the halls, Freya would have looked like a dancing shadow with the passing flash of dulled white as she slinked back into her hall. They passed by Odin, who was being indelicately dragged into his room by Kili. Fili held back a laugh and helped his brother with his limp cousin.

"How has he been fairing?" Dís asked quietly. Coruwen shrugged, truly not knowing how her son had been fairing since Freya had taken him into her possession. She would check on him later after the halls had calmed down. Dís sighed sadly, "We need to show him that heights will be the death of him."

"He will learn," Thorin muttered and Dís shot him a small glare. Coruwen gave him a swat on the shoulder. "Fine, we'll teach him." She did not understand where this strange attitude of Thorin's was coming from. He had always been loving and caring towards all three boys. When Dís was dragged off by one of her friends for a moment, Coruwen took the chance to speak to Thorin.

"What is the matter with you?" She asked sharply. He gave her a puzzled look and she sighed. "Why are you acting so… Brash? What happened to you?" He tore his gaze from her, but her hand grabbed his shoulder faster making him focus on her. His eyes were clouded by an odd sorrow that she could not put her finger on. "You're stressed, aren't you?"

"Aye, I am," He replied. "First your health and now this damned war. Odin wants to fight, but in a way I cannot let him fight. I only want him to become a strong king one day, but no matter how hard I try I cannot seem to get that through to him."

Coruwen stroked the side of his face. "Talk to him when he surfaces again. I know you can get through to him; you love him and he loves you. He has been striving to make himself known, and he finally showed it to you… Though not in the best of ways."

"If you believe that will help him…"

"I know you are not gifted with a silver tongue, but Odin understands you. Let him listen and maybe you will come to an understanding." She felt his hand tighten around hers and she smiled. "It will help you at least with one stress, love."

"If I could only rid myself of the stress caused by this," He placed his hand over her heart, and her heart sank. Grief bit at her heart as she saw sorrow flash in her beloved's eyes. His hand slid from its place over her heart as he walked off.

"Thorin, wait a moment," Coruwen saw him halt, glancing back at her. She motioned for him to come over to her and he returned to her side, catching her dainty hands in his own. From beneath his collar, she withdrew the white star pendant she had given him and it still to this day glimmered brightly like the great star of the north. "I am always with you, no matter how far," She traced the pendant's pearlescent metal with gentle fingertips. "Always remember that I am with you, my love. All I ask is that you do not burden yourself with such troubling thoughts. I am yours, and you are mine; never forget that."

She started to walk away from him, hearing him whisper a faint line in Khuzdul that she did not know of. The words sounded heartfelt and endearing; in fact she had heard them come from him before. She did not ask what they meant, nor did she mind hearing him speak such words. He had his secrets just as she had hers.

* * *

"_Why can't I move?"_ Odin thought. He tried to move his arm, but it refused to move. His body felt sluggish and his head throbbed. It felt like he had been hit by something or dropped… His eyes cracked open and he winced at the light of the room. He buried his face into the folds of his blankets in an attempt hide from the light. He heard a huff behind him and he flicked his gaze up to see Fenrir laying his head on a pillow, his almond eye shining happily.

"Fenrir," Odin whispered. The prince heard his voice and would have jumped had he not been inflicted with a strange pain. His voice was hoarse with his throat scratchy. Through the door, Odin heard a loud thump followed by a small bit of arguing. His door opened revealing Fili with Kili poking his head over his brother's shoulder.

"Hey, you're awake," Fili said gently. His cousin crept up near him, sitting beside him on his bed. Fili's cool hand pressed against his forehead, making him hiss as a hot pain bloomed on the left side of his head. "You're lucky you didn't damage your brain, Odin."

Odin managed a small groan as Fili removed bandages that were sticky with blood; his blood. He cleared his throat, motioning at them. "You fell after you kicked Freya, you have a few nasty bruises on your left side from landing on the ground," Kili told him. Odin narrowed his eyes, trying to sit up but his body gave out causing him to fall back into Fenrir. His hound gave a small warning growl, and Odin internally lamented the fact he couldn't move whatsoever. "Careful now, you can't move right now. Your balance won't be back for a bit; at least not until that wound on your head heals."

"Great," Odin hissed as Fili wrapped his head with new bandages. Kili smiled, patting his cousin's shoulder. He watched Kili disappear from the room leaving him with Fili, who was stroking Fenrir's head and ears. "Fili… Why do I-?"

"Sound like that?" Fili finished. "Here, this should help." Odin felt a cup rest at his lips and slowly, the water slipped down his throat helping to stop the scratchiness of his throat. "Better?"

"Yes," Odin replied, his voice still a bit hoarse, but his throat was no longer raw allowing him to speak easier. He glanced up at his cousin, who had his hair loose from their typical braids and it was starting to become a bit wild like that of a true lion only with blue eyes. He smiled up at Fili and then shut his eyes again. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Roughly about six hours," Fili said simply, running a hand through his hair. For a good portion of his life, Odin had never seen Fili greatly concerned. He cracked open his eyes again, looking at his cousin closely. Fili had worry lines in his face, and his eyes lacking their typical glint. His father had been lacking that same glint as well. He heard the closing of a door and Fili's attention flicked back. "Thorin, is something wrong?"

"No, I just need to speak with my son," Thorin answered, and Odin mentally winced. He became anxious as Fili left the room and he was left with his father. He could see his father slowly come into his view, and he noticed that his father did not appear angered or upset. Thorin's gaze was gentle as he came to sit beside him. "How do feel?"

"Horrible," Odin muttered. He shut his eyes, waiting for his father to chew him out. He tensed up when he felt his father's hand press against his forehead. "Adad?"

"Odin, what you did earlier was foolish," Thorin scolded and Odin tensed up again at the firmness of his father's voice. One might have thought he would have gotten used to the sound of his father's voice, but in truth he had never gotten over how stern Thorin could sound without being internally upset. He cracked open one eye, looking up at his father hoping that his voice did not portray his facial features. Odin was surprised to see his father quite calm. His tone became gentle again as he ran a hand across his son's forehead. "However, I do not believe I have ever been more proud of you. You fought well."

Odin blinked in shock, not believing that the man before him was his father. There had been a few times in his life that his father had been sincere. His father had always been caring towards him, but it was not the same love that his mother or aunt gave. He attempted to sit up, and felt Thorin's hand brace his shoulder and grip his hand to pull him up.

"I have kept you hidden away for a long time, Odin. But with the War of the Ring trying to rip this world apart, I do believe that it is time for you start learning what your cousins had to learn when they were your age," Thorin told him. "You are, after all, my only child and a prince of this realm. When you are able to move around without much trouble, I will have Fili and Freya start training you again."

"Again?"

His father smirked, "You trained earlier today and were doing well until you kicked Freya on the snout. She is still rather cross with you about that."

Odin laughed nervously, "Right…"

Thorin stood, ruffling his son's hair making him playfully swat his father's arm. His father chuckled and Odin looked up at him quizzically. The sapphire eyes of his father were fond, and he had seen this look before but couldn't put his finger on it. Just as quickly as the look came, it faded, and Thorin patted his son's had before leaving. "Get some rest, little one. You'll need it."

Thorin closed the door to Odin's room and jumped when he saw Coruwen standing on the opposite side of the hallway with her hands folded behind her back. She had a playful smirk on her face as she approached him.

"Have I not told you to stop eavesdropping?" Thorin snapped. Coruwen laughed quietly and took his hand in hers. "How much of it did you hear?"

"Only the latter half," She replied. "You show love in the oddest of ways."

He smirked, glancing back at Odin's door. "He understood me; that much I know."

* * *

**A/N: We start getting into the war next chapter.. Who's excited? **

**Big thank you(once again) to all of you readers, reviewers, and everything in between. I hope you guys are not getting bored.. In fact, we're almost done with this story if guys can believe it.. **

**Please Review, they help motivate me! **


	25. Chapter 25

_**The Beginning of the End**_

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**-March 16, 3019-**

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Freya sat upon the tip of Erebor watching the Great Plains below. The clouds overhead were brewing a storm of great ferocity; they were dark grey almost tinted black. Her soul fidgeted beneath her skin as she listened to the sound of drums that were ever so far away, yet so near that her heart kept time with the beats. All three cities below were quiet on the outside, but inside they bustled with a strange adrenaline that Freya had never seen before. Dale had taken most of the people out of Esgaroth and ferried them into their city.

Once before, Freya had seen the might of these Lake-Men, their devotion to their strongholds. She had seen the might of the dwarves, who never gave into fear no matter what stood in their way. But somewhere, Freya feared this would be the end for some. The Easterlings were fierce, close to unforgiving and they took no prisoners aside from women, who they ended up violating and then tearing their hearts out, literally.

Freya heard a loud crack and then the sliding of metal gears churning to ready something. She unfurled her wings, leaping down from her perch to inspect the noise. She found several Lake-Men and dwarves readying what looked like a catapult. But it did not throw boulders, but nets instead. Freya flew away from that with great haste, fearing nets greatly. The dragoness landed on an outcropping of rock, listening to the sounds of the metal whispering through the cracks in the mountain.

"Snake," A gruff voice taunted behind her. Freya knew that voice all too well. One amber eye flicked back to land upon an elderly Dain Ironfoot, still carrying himself tall and proud with his two war axes swung on his back and the last he used as a walking stick. Age had treated the old dwarf well, his eyes still glinting with a great sense of ferocity, but his hair had turned pure white; which appeared stark against the ebony armor he wore. "I thought you lived up in the mountains."

"I do live in a mountain; this one," Freya laughed as she swatted Dain with her tail. The lord let out a hearty laugh gripping her back talon as he made his way up to her head. She noted how he seemed to struggle a bit with climbing the unstable rocks. "Age has not treated you kindly."

"Age is a like an old crone; it never goes away and constantly reminds you that it's here," Dain snorted. "Suppose _you_ wouldn't understand, you're a dragon."

"Oh, I understand that old mule known as Age, Dain Ironfoot. I get reminded of it when I fly for long periods of time," Freya agreed as she laid down on the outcropping, allowing her mighty paws to swing over the edge. Dain scoffed and she huffed out a smoke ring. "Damned old mule never seems to die."

"Beating a dead horse, stop it," Dain scolded, tapping her shoulder with the handle of his ax. Freya laughed, her voice shaking the ground a bit. Her laugh died down when she was reminded by the Easterlings riding towards this great city with a strange speed. Something gave them speed; it was not their horses but their rage and willingness to take up arms. "What's bothering you?"

"I can hear them," Freya cracked her tail into the air, causing Dain to wince. He shot her a glare, but saw her lips pull up into a snarl. Hatred filled her blood, catching her once dormant dragon nature ablaze with war's song. "They will be here by nightfall with this strange pace."

"How many leagues?"

Freya tilted her head, listening to the horse hooves beat the ground like heavy rain over stone. Their drums sounded like cracks of thunder, their chants low and fast slowly, mingling to sound like one guttural voice. She could only guess how close they were to Erebor. "Two hundred, maybe one hundred leagues from this city. Regardless, we must be ready."

"Aye, I'll go give my cousin the news. He will not be very happy about, let me tell you."

Freya let smoke slip out of her mouth, letting it tumble onto her paws, "That he won't."

The dragoness slipped back inside of Erebor to find many dwarves running left and right like little mice. She carefully weaved- the best a dragon could- through the swarms of people making her way into the throne room, where she laid herself down behind Coruwen's throne with her head resting beside her Dear One. Coruwen looked at her curiously before Dain came into the room, bearing the news that Freya had estimated off the top of her scaly head.

Now the look Thorin gave Dain was rather humorous to say the least, or rather to her it was funny. The king seemed a bit torn; Freya believed he did not know who to be mad at; her or Dain. He finally spoke a sentence of Khuzdul to Dain and told her that she had better be lying.

"All words from a dragon's mouth are true, Thorin Oakenshield," Freya pointed, letting a puff of smoke out her mouth. She felt a hand rub her snout softly, and she looked down the bridge of her nose to see Fili and Kili. "What I am telling you is the truth! Whether or not you wish to believe it is another story. Brand has already started to prepare his men by placing them at his walls. If you should-,"

"I know how to fight a war, _Dragon_," Thorin growled as he stood. Her blood was all ready boiling, but the king set her ire up and over the edge. "I have held my men as they lay dying in my arms, whispering the names of their loved ones. I have seen the land painted red and heard the terrifying screams of men, elves, and dwarves alike as they are ripped apart by horses and wargs." He stood before her, his anger flashing in his eyes. "If you are simply going to lie around like your son then I suggest you depart my halls." He let out a sentence and Freya heard Dain's name within his words, and he left the main hall with Dain trailing after, a bit appalled at the king's actions.

"Oh Uncle is frustrated," Fili whispered. He glanced over at his aunt, who was nervously ringing her fingers and Freya swatted her elleth's arm for such behavior. Coruwen peered up at her with her light blue eyes becoming clouded over with worry.

"Boys," Freya addressed firmly, drawing both their attentions to her. "Prepare yourselves, and find your cousin. We need to be ready regardless of what your uncle believes. Dale will not be able to hold off the Easterlings for long." Fili and Kili darted off after she spoke, leaving her with a distraught Coruwen. She let out an affectionate rumble, nudging the elf queen gently. Coruwen held up one hand, halting the dragoness' affection. "Dear One, you must fight… What makes you hesitate?"

"I fear I will not live through this," Coruwen whispered, her voice thickening with emotion. Freya snorted, picking up the queen by the back of her collar making her shriek. "Freya! Put. Me. Down!"

"Not until I have _my_ Dear One back!" Freya snapped. Coruwen blinked in shock. "What happened to the strong, self-willed woman who married the King under the Mountain? Where did she go? What happened to the one elf I claim as my own?! How in the name of the Great Mother did you lose sight of yourself? Tell me, speak!"

"This damned illness took what power I had over my old self!" Coruwen growled, her eyes narrowing. "I cannot look at my beloved and not see him pained. I can no longer fight."

"Nonsense! You speak lies and mortality has crippled you." Coruwen swung her foot up; knocking Freya's jaws together making her teeth click. She smirked wryly. 'Good girl… _That_ is my Coruwen, not some dainty little finch who has lost her ability to fly."

Coruwen shot her a dark glare. "Freya, you big serpent-,"

"Come now, prepare yourself, Dear One. There will be a fight before the night is through; that I can be certain of." The queen whirled around and disappeared into a corridor, leaving Freya quite content with herself.

* * *

Odin watched Balder start sheathing his knives into various sheaths on his person, silently counting each of them. The halls were all ready busy, but when a squire came with the terrible news of the Easterlings being on Erebor's borders it sent the whole lower levels into a minor frenzy. To escape it all, Odin sat in the higher level's armory not desiring to get swallowed by the swarming people below. Balder had volunteered to stay with him since they lost Tyr in the frenzy with Dwalin. The prince tapped his fingers on his knee, thinking of what this battle going to come to.

"Odin," Balder sang, waving his fingers in front of his face. Odin swatted his friend's hand; irritated by the fact that Balder was bugging him. If Odin ever had a brother or someone close to it; it would be Balder. He loved him like a brother, but some of the time he wanted to punch him. He narrowed his eyes up at Balder, who then gestured to a set of ebony armor laying out for him. He blinked, taking in the armor in its entirety. His fingers traced his family's crest on the breastplate, for the crest itself was lined with silver.

The door being opened made him jump back, and Balder snickered. Odin swatted his friend upside the head, sending a glare his way as well before he saw Fili and Kili come into the room. He saw the stern expression of Fili and then looked over at Kili, who was staying out of his brother's way as the older one picked up his armor. Fili's armor was scaled, colored dark red like Freya's rosewood colored scales. After donning his armor, Fili glanced over at Odin. There was a small flash of happiness in his eyes, but it faded before Odin could truly notice it. Fili left the room and Kili hung back, playing with his hood. In fact, Kili wore a hooded cloak of dark leather, and it obscured much of his cousin's armor.

Odin stood and tapped Kili on the shoulder, drawing his attention. Kili's gold eyes were dark and greatly concerned. Abruptly, Odin was pulled into Kili in a tight embrace.

"Kili!" Fili shouted. Kili released Odin, darting after his brother and leaving the latter confused. The prince shook himself of the confusion, walking over to his armor and began to don it. Balder smirked when Odin had trouble with one of his gauntlets, which was giving him minor trouble. Balder stopped him, helping him.

"Sometimes I wonder how you are related to the king," Balder said quietly, his grey eyes hinting mischievously. Odin smiled, gripping Balder's forearm.

"Same could be said about you and your father. You're nothing like him," Odin put in as he tied his sword to his hip. Balder snorted, looking away from his friend. The prince chuckled, "Come on, we best not hide in here. Otherwise, my father will hunt us down and drag us out of here."

"Literally?"

Odin narrowed his eyes, "I don't know if he will literally, but I know my mother will have Freya come and find us."

Balder shuddered, trailing after Odin as the two made their way up to the throne room. Upon pushing open the old doors, Odin found that Freya was laying behind the throne of his mother and father. His father was pacing, his armor and boots making his distraught pacing sound like rocks being tossed down a large cavern. His armor differed from that of ebony. It was a mixture of black and ash grey with certain layers scaled and the rest a great sheet.

Odin then looked to his mother, who he had never seen in any sort of armor in his life. His mother wore the light garb of an archer, colored dark grey with hints of white etched into the leather. On her shoulders rested a cloak of black, hiding her quiver that lay on her hip.

"Is that your mother?" Balder whispered, looking between him and the queen. Odin nodded slowly before starting off towards his parents. Coruwen glanced up at him, her blue eyes shining happily for a moment before Dain and his eldest son entered the room. Odin stood at his mother's side with Freya at his back. His cousins soon entered, standing at his father's side as more people entered the room.

"How close are the forces, Freya?" Coruwen asked, coming to stand beside the dragoness, who raised her head to listen. Many people looked up at the dragoness in awe despite her living beneath Erebor a long while. A horn sounded that was sonorous sending Odin's gaze to the doors. That horn did not belong to the Lake-Men; that much he knew.

"Five leagues," Freya replied. "Strange how fast a horde decides to move when their master's whip chases them."

Odin heard a small muttering amongst the people, mainly elders or young children. The warriors from the Iron Hills and Erebor remained stone-faced, but the air was tense. A cry of someone asked what were they to do with the Easterlings right at the foothills of their home.

"We shall do what we did many, many years ago," Coruwen stated clearly. Her voice was clear, not wavering in the slightest; a symbol of true power. "The Easterlings know what power lies here; they are fools to try to take this city from us. There is but one force on this earth that can take this city, and we have her. Erebor was not taken by other forces easily, it took a dragon to take it and a dragon alone can take it again. I do not believe the Easterlings have a dragon."

"_Freya is the last of her kind," _Odin thought as his mother spoke in her clear voice, hoping that it alleviate the worries of her people. The prince smiled at the floor as she ended her speech, her hand still resting upon the nose of Freya. There was a removal of tension within the main hall for a few moments until Dain and Thorin started to give orders at the sounding of the second Easterling horn. His father walked up to him as warriors marched from the hall to the main gate. His father gripped his shoulder tightly, the feeling of pride radiating off of him.

"Stay with me, and don't fall behind," Thorin ordered, releasing Odin's shoulder. He turned on his heel, meeting up with Dain. Tyr joined Odin's side as he followed his father ahead of the warriors. The gates opened revealing a great line standing upon the Desolation of Smaug. Black horses stamped their feet upon the ground, anxious to move again with their riders trying to control their ornery steeds. Behind the horses stood a line of spearmen with their weapons standing out like silver spires with small flags depicting a six pointed Silver Star set into a black and red backdrop. Instantly, Odin's heart dropped out of his chest and onto the ground somewhere far from him.

"Whoever has less, owes the other a drink," Tyr whispered with a sly smirk. Odin cast a ghostly smile up at his friend before Dain grabbed Tyr, dragging him away. The prince shook his head as Tyr waved at him as Dain placed him within his ranks. Odin's sharp eyes fell on the red cloaks of the Lake-Men, who began to swarm out of Dale with swords and spears ready to defend their home. Ahead of the column of men stood six white horses, each bearing the symbol of the Lord of Dale with their vermillion cloaks hiding their horses' hind quarters. The Men of Dale divided as two bay horses road through the middle with their riders wearing red and gold. Brand stood in the midst of his men with his eldest son, Bard, at his side.

The all three armies watched as the sun fell behind the horizon, signaling the dwarves to march down to Brand and his men to join the armies before the Easterlings charged.

* * *

Coruwen ordered Frigga and Sol to have the elderly, women, and children start down into the lower levels should things turn for the worst. While Thorin took the battle to the Easterlings on the field, she took up the mantle of watching Erebor's walls unless a signal was sent up for the forces inside to head out. Her forces were mostly Kili's guards and archers, people who could defend from high places and knew the slopes well enough to navigate them easily. She threw her hood over her head with Kili and Balder joining her up on the wall above the gates.

Darkness had fallen like a hammer, revealing thousands of red, flickering lights on the Desolation of Smaug. She could see the shapes of the Easterling forces in the dwindling light, but she was surprised that Khamûl was not present. This bothered her.

"Patrol the wall, watch for the Nazgûl," Coruwen ordered. Balder nodded, darting off to the left with another guard. Kili passed the order onto his guards, who then passed it along to the others.

"Where's the Nazgûl?" Kili asked, watching the sky like she had ordered. Coruwen had a strange sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Why; she had no idea. She was all ready worried for her family that went to fight below on the plains and having Khamûl not present was making her worry turn into panic. Her mind began to wander when Khamûl had attacked Thranduil, which ended up hitting her instead. The scar was still on her back from that little incident, along with her warg scars and scar on her arm; she was a mess. She felt Kili tug on her hauberk, making her gaze flick down to him. He was looking forward, watching something. "Their meeting and the Easterlings have begun to burn Esgaroth."

Coruwen looked past the Easterling lines to see flickering red flames kissing the sky. Brand had made the right decision to move the people of Esgaroth out of that place. It was a city guarded by wooden walls; an excellent signal for the people of Dale had anyone been inside. Her ears picked up the sounds of orders being shouted at lines of men below as the horses of the Easterlings started toward the enemy.

"Will we have to use Freya?" Kili inquired. Coruwen tightened her fingers around her bow. She glanced down at him and then back up at the sky.

"Only if Khamûl appears," She replied quietly. In truth, she did not know if Freya could handle fighting Khamûl. Her scales may be strong and unable to be pierced, but she was old. As dragons age their body becomes fragile, their bones brittle, scales soft, and their fire less potent. Freya was becoming an elder dragon. Thankfully, Ancalagon's blood flowed through her veins allowing her to keep her potent fire and strong bones.

"What if things get out of hand?"

"Then I will let her choose whether or not to fight."

As hours passed by the battle below began to wear thin, many had passed, many wounded, and the Easterlings were succeeding in their fits of wild slaughter. Khamûl had yet to make his appearance, leaving his men to fight his own battle. Coruwen had remembered the amount of blood split in the Battle of Five Armies, how the metallic scent coated the air. She hated that memory; yet here it was replaying itself for her. The Easterlings had lost their horses and lost many men, but something drove them; a wild feral behavior that no ordinary man possessed.

Her gaze fell on a group of Easterling archers positioned high up on an outcropping of rock, firing their arrows at the Lake-Men from behind. Beyond anger, she notched an arrow into her bow and pulled back, aiming at the back of one Easterling. The arrows twanged and embedded itself into the archer's back, causing him to fall forward like a ragdoll. The archers wheeled around, looking at her, then their ally. One pulled back a notched arrow, his dark eyes focused on her. Coruwen heard the whistle of an arrow behind her and the arrow met its mark into the chest of the second archer. Soon, the last archer was left with many other bows pointed at him, ready to fire. In a panic, he scurried down the rock like a frightened mouse.

Coruwen notched an arrow, firing at the Easterling's heel while another caught the back of his neck. Her ears picked up the sounds of men screaming as they neared Erebor's gates. Her gaze flicked down to the skirt of the mountain, and found that a small regiment of Lake-Men and dwarves were backed up onto the slopes, fighting the Easterling spearmen. Her heart sank when she saw Brand, nearly beaten and bloody, fighting against a ruthless spearmen, who used swung his spear like a great fan, knocking back the Lake-Men. She didn't see Fili, Odin, or Thorin… Why didn't she see them?

"Kili," Coruwen said sharply over her shoulder, "Help Brand with his little problem."

"Right," Kili answered. Coruwen started down the narrow walkway, watching Brand like a hawk. She spied Dain, fighting beside the Lord of Dale. She began to worry and in her concern and worry, she loosed an arrow on an Easterling. In a way, she liked watching them fall; they were pests and ruthless ones at that. She narrowed her eyes at Dale, the once great city torn to shreds by the Easterlings, who now ran ramped through her streets.

A loud yell drew her attention downward to Brand and Dain, who stood against the Easterlings still killing off their men. The yell came again, a sentence in the tongue of the Lake-Men that she did not know. It was a command, not a plea. The command was shouted again, but cut off towards the end and Coruwen froze; watching Brand drop his sword and fall to his knees. An Easterling stood behind him, gripping the hilt of a jagged scimitar that had slipped through the opening in Brand's armor. Before the realization of the shock came to her, Dain had swung his ax, cleaving the Easterling's head from his shoulders.

"Coruwen!" Dain barked. She whirled around, descending down to the gates and found that Mora stood awaiting her at the bottom. She paused, surprised to see her horse standing ready. The black mare tossed her great head, stomping one feathered foot on the ground. She smiled faintly before mounting the mare, and slipping through the gates as they closed. Mora's feet beat the stone until there was a loud splash, like the horse had run into a puddle of water. Coruwen glanced down to see an ashen, horror stricken face silently screaming for help with blood seeping from his chest and pouring onto the ground.

The queen shook off the horror and slid to the ground near Dain, finding him greatly injured, more so than she would have expected from a great warrior like him. The ash grey stone was painted a murky red, matching the red of the Easterling's garb. The scent of blood made her wince mentally, as it made painful memories rise in the forefront of her mind. Brand lay against a rock, barely hanging onto life with him far from her healing expertise. Gently, she tried to get him to speak.

Brand's eyes cracked open, his eyes losing their life quickly and his breaths staggered and growing shallow. "They…Have Bard; they took him." Brand managed. Coruwen heard him clear his throat a bit and his fingers tried to find their way into the side of his armor, but she stopped him. She hooked her fingers on a chain, and she pulled free a bracelet formed of wooden beads. As the life in Brand's eyes died, he smiled faintly, passing into the Halls of Mandos.

"Be safe, my friend," Coruwen whispered, clutching the bracelet to her chest. She turned to Dain, who had a grave look on his face. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Dain, you're gravely injured. We-,"

"I'm fine; it's nothing," Dain snapped, his steely eyes narrowing. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest as she thought of losing more people close to her. Such an emotion must have been clear to see, for Dain patted her hand before starting toward the battlefield again. "I don't know where Thorin or Odin ran off to, but I can assure you they're fine."

"Dain," Coruwen muttered.

The lord laughed, "You worry too much, woman; seems that all you girls do sometimes. Take my advice, go kill some of these buggers and then see how much you worry." He left her sight, but she could hear him taunt the Easterlings all the way down the slope. She smiled weakly, shaking her head at the silly nature of Dain.

As she approached Mora to return, she thought she had heard the sounds of someone behind her. She whirled around, her gaze flicking around for signs of movement but all she saw were the motionless bodies belonging to the dead. She reached Mora, gripping the course mane of hair before attempting to pull herself up. The sound of an arrow being loosed made her hair stand up on end in fear and before she could turn around her body was sent jerking forward into Mora causing the mare to rear up on her hindquarters. Hot pain spread through her back and soon she couldn't move; her muscles were rigid and frozen.

In the sides of her vision, blackness began to crawl up and swallow her. Coruwen refused to be broken like this, and her mind began to churn thoughts over and over. She needed to find her son, her husband, and help her people. The pain that coursed through her system was steadily becoming more and more unbearable, stopping her from thinking. She silently cursed stupid mistakes. She made one like this once, but instead of fighting men, she was fighting a warg. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of men; her people being slaughtered like lambs. Coruwen could feel her heart slowing down and her breathing become shallow.

'_Keep them safe; both of them…'_

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__**A/N: This chapter was the biggest thorn in my side.. I know you guys are going to hate me for giving you a bad cliffhanger AND a short chapter. I promise the next one will be longer! Stupid writer's block and its inability to go away... **

**Please Review! **


	26. Chapter 26

_**Little Dragon, Why must you Burn the Pines?**_

_"Eventually, everything goes away." –Elizabeth Gilbert_

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"Odin?" A voice whispered. The prince twitched with a great pain behind his eyes and his body fatigued. His blue eyes cracked open to meet the grey eyes of Balder with Sol behind him. Odin drew himself up onto his knees, trying to not fall backward as his head gauged how much balance he had. His eyes rose, taking in his surroundings. He had gotten separated from his father and Dain and was dragged off of in an odd direction, almost toward the River Running. But this was not where he had landed, or so he thought. He was now in the ruins of an old watchtower near the borders of Mirkwood. The ground was steadily becoming a sickly green color; the ground was turning into blight. His glanced back at Balder concerned as he stood.

Sol whirled around, gripping his wrist making him jump. "How… How did I get here? That Easterling didn't drag me _this_ far, did he?" Odin asked, Sol gave him a stern look, taking the side of his face roughly and inspecting a patch of dried blood and scabbed skin that had formed on his shoulder. "Sol, Balder what has happened?"

"All of our leaders are dead, excluding you and Kili," Sol snapped. Balder gripped her shoulder, which made her stiffened physically. Odin's heart jolted painfully in his chest. He met the green eyes of Sol, who was clearly agitated. That meant his father, mother, Lord Dain, Brand, _and_ Bard were dead. He took a step back as his balance gave away with his mind blank. Dead… His mother and father were gone; killed by the Easterlings. His hands covered his face as he shook, unable to quell the growing despair in his heart. "We need you to get back to Erebor; our people in a damned frenzy."

"I am not going back," Odin replied weakly. Sol groaned, shaking her head.

"And why the hell not? You are the only remaining heir to the throne! Fili is dead, and Kili cannot take up the crown because of his place as Captain of the Guard. Damn it, Odin! You are the heir apparent." Sol scolded, her voice rising because of her anger.

Odin's eyes snapped up as his despair took a turn and delved into fury. "How do you even know they are dead?! What proof do you have?"

Sol hissed out a curse and tossed a white stone pendant at him, which he fumbled to catch. Blood tainted the purity of the pendant and his thumb stroked away the taint. This necklace belonged to his father. He glanced up at Sol again, scoffing and tucking the necklace away. "That pendant is-,"

"My father's; I know," He replied shortly. "But what of Fili and my mother? You have nothing that belongs to them."

"Actually…" Balder interjected, his voice slightly unsure if he should be doing what he was doing currently. Odin's gaze softened as he looked at his friend, who withdrew a bow and quiver from a nearby pony. Ebony and dark green feathers stuck out from the top of the quiver along with a yew long bow. And after setting that aside, he withdrew one of Fili's swords, the steel no longer shining through the heavy coating of blood upon it. Odin's heart gave him another stab of pain as he touched the quiver. "I'm sorry, Odin… But you need to do this; no else can. As of now, you are the King under the Mountain."

"Balder, not you too," Odin hissed. Balder shut his eyes tightly, taking a step back and kneeling before him. The prince tapped his friend on the shoulder, making his gaze rise. It was then that his mind snapped back into place; no anger, it became clear once more. Balder practically his brother, and surely no brother of his would be kneeling before him. "I am no king, nor do you need to bow before me. Even when I do take the throne; I won't subject you to that."

Balder smirked, "You sound really stupid when you are depressed…"

Sol snorted, "Are you going to take up the throne or not, squirt?"

Odin frowned at the old nickname, but shook it off. His heart and head were torn; one told him to fight for his land while the other sought to let the Easterlings go free. He looked over at Balder and Sol, both who had rather serious expression upon their faces. The prince tapped his fingers on his gauntlet in thought. His heart still wallowed in sorrow, but his mind had stopped its wallowing when Balder had kneeled. His heart loved this land, this Middle-Earth more than one could ever believe, it loved the mountain he had called home for years, and by the Maker he was _not_ going to let a bunch of cutthroats and nomads take it.

"I'll do it, but I won't like it," Odin answered. Sol smirked, walking over to a short horse and withdrew Orcrist from its sheath. He was surprised to see t away from his father, or rather how someone could have gotten his father let go of it. She offered it to him, and he gave her a quizzical look. Orcrist was the sword of the King… He mentally chuckled; King… He took up Orcrist, inspecting the blade closely; the curve of the blade, the Cirth runes, he took in everything as if he had never held the sword before. His father had let him hold Orcrist once, and it was very brief for at the time he was small and could not hold its weight in his hands.

"We should head back before your aunt starts pushing people down stairwells," Sol stated as she swung up onto a pony. Odin chuckled and mounted the horse, taking note that it was quite small. It was a deep roan with no flecks of grey aside for a single white sock on its back left leg.

"Where'd you find this one?" Odin asked as he started towards Erebor. Sol and Balder snickered, making Odin shake his head. "Be honest."

"Snatched him from an Easterling, and Easterlings horses are some of the fastest horses alive," Sol replied as her pony passed him. "But that's some horse master's opinion. In all honesty, it's a horse. How can it be faster than any other horse? I could say that this pony was faster than all other ones, but then I'd be lying."

"Faster? More like fatter," Balder quipped. Odin smiled, but it faded quickly when his gaze landed on Dale. Its great walls crumbled and great tents of hide lay at its base with some leading into the city itself. There were still so many left; how on earth were they going to kill so many of them? It almost seemed like a lost cause to fight them. Dealings with the Easterlings seemed like an attempt to fight back the sea's pull. Sol and Balder's voices faded from his hearing as he studied the remnants of Dale. They had torn the gates from their hinges, set fire to the homes, and crushed the walls into useless rubble. Odin clicked his tongue for the horse to move on and followed Balder and Sol back to Erebor with the hopes of fixing his people.

As the prince's horse clambered up the slopes of Erebor, Odin felt a sense of dread claim him. The pathways were typically smooth and a light grey from years of being traveled on. Now they were slick with blood like a rain had come during the battle. There was little that the blood did not touch. It dripped down from rocks creating red veins in the grey. The scent of copper and metal was unbearable, yet one could not hide from it; it was everywhere, in the air, into one's clothes, and could possibly permeate one's skin if you stood out there too long.

The gates of Erebor stood closed, most likely locked, keeping Odin from entering. He dismounted his horse, and looked up at the catwalk above the gate hoping to spy someone. Now, Odin was all ready upset as it was but being locked out of his mountain was slowly making him irritated. He uttered a low curse and yelled up at the people on the catwalk. A head poked over the side, and then disappeared. The gates became cracked open revealing Dís and she waved for him to come inside. He slipped inside only to be embraced tightly by a relieved Dís.

"Where did you go? How did you even dodge the Easterlings? What happened to Fili, Thorin, and Coruwen?" She asked, her voice shaky and her eyes watery. Odin squeezed her hands before heading off to the throne room where Freya slept. "Odin, answer me…"

He paused halfway up the steps, silently dreading to even speak about the latter question, much less tell her how he had escaped. He had seen the look on his mother's face when he had kicked Freya in the snout; the look of pure concern and terror. He did not desire to tell his aunt that almost all of their family had been taken by the Easterlings. It was…It was too much. He felt his throat constrict as his mind tried to piece together words.

"Auntie… They-," He stopped unable to hold back the despair in his heart. It almost seemed cruel to rip away his cousin and parents. He tightened his hands into fist, shutting his eyes. His soul writhed in sorrow as he opened his eyes slightly. Clearly by his expression alone Dís could tell what he could speak. Her face was troubled, yet passive. Her topaz eyes blinked in shock, and Odin swore he saw her sway a bit. "Auntie, I-I…

"You go see Freya, Odin," Dís ordered sharply. He tried to move towards her, but she gave him a stern glare making him stop dead in his tracks. "Go, now."

He nodded, turned, and starting up the steps again. The throne room was quiet, deathly quiet in fact. Freya was lying behind the stones thrones with her horse head held high catching the dwindling sunset light. The light was gold; painting her neck scales a pale gold almost making her appear like her lost son and mother, Lady Bright Scales. Freya had always been in his life, and he loved her a great deal and the majesty she held in one claw was greater than this mountain. He had grown up with her stories of her father and the first Dragon War, the first taste of power dragons ever had encountered; all of which came from Melkor and later Sauron. Freya had told him stories of her father, Ancalagon and his place as king over all dragons, how he ruled with a firm claw, or his case, paw. No doubt Freya had obtained all of her father's venerable nature and mother's beauty.

"You are thinking of me, Allfather," Freya said, her amber eyes opening with the pupil thin, almost invisible. Odin gave her a faint smile which she returned with a simple flick of her tail across his face. He approached her and came to sit on her paw, running a hand across the smooth scales that were cool to the touch. He nervously rung his hands, and stopped when his thoughts drifted to his parents. "You are grieved… Speak to me and tell me your worries…"

Odin glanced up at her and then back at his feet. He withdrew his father's necklace from his armor, running his thumb across the warm stone. In his grief, he placed his forehead against the pendant hoping that this was merely a dream and he would wake up with everyone alive again. He heard a soft rumble that made his chest vibrate with power, a raw power that made his senses wake up. He glanced back at Freya, who regarded him fondly.

"Come now, my little Allfather, speak and tell your dragoness of your worry," Freya soothed, her breath passing over him. He swept a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging on the braids that rested just behind his ear. He began to unravel the braid and thought of his mother. His mother and her nimble fingers that could weave a braid in mere seconds, and it didn't matter how complex it was. His mother typically wore her hair loose, but she often braided his aunt's hair or Sol's. Upon rare occasions, his mother would braid her hair back in the braids dating back the old elven city of Gondolin. He never understood why she hid her ears behind her hair, or why she only spoke Sindarin to himself or his father… He heard a small chuckle and he turned his gaze back to Freya. "Your mother wanted to keep her old self in the past. She is considered an outcast by her kindred and thus keeps her true lineage a secret. Your mother changed when she married your father, Allfather."

"I feel as if I failed her and Father," Odin mumbled, tucking the white stone pendant back into his armor. "I am no king, I may be a prince but I am no king."

"Nonsense," Freya replied. "Those who deem themselves unworthy end up becoming the most venerable of rulers, little one, never forget that. Your mother thought herself unable to contend with any other woman at court during the time of her freedom. It was your father and Balin that told her that she had every right to rule, and look what she became."

"Freya… I-I can't; my father would haunt me if I screwed up this city. In fact, I'm pretty sure he, Grandfather, and Great Grandfather would haunt me until I died," Odin grumbled, leaning back against Freya. "Kili has more right to rule than me."

Freya snorted out smoke, and flicked her tail through the rings. He watched the smoke dance in the sun's dwindling light, and it reminded him of his father when he would smoke his pipe. He shook it off, telling his mind that memories were a terrible idea right now. As he looked up at Freya, he saw a strange glimmer of amusement in her eyes. He had never seen it before and almost wanted to question it.

"I do believe if Kili ruled over this kingdom; there would be a plethora of little hellions all claiming to be his and there would be terrible ties with Thranduil, along with the occasional breaking of things," Freya stated, causing Odin blink up at her in shock. Had he heard her correctly? She openly mocked his cousin, all of which she said was true, but it still was a terrible something say. She smiled wryly, "Yes, your cousin would turn this city into a bunch of Petty Dwarves, which could warrant his death from the ghosts of your line dating back to Durin the Deathless."

"You think so?"

"Aye, sadly."

Odin slid off of her paw, looking up at her and held out his hand for her. She blew out more smoke and then touched her nose to his palm. The heat of her nose was great, almost like touching a lit brazier. He wanted to recoil, but through all of the pain, he felt strange warmth almost like being wrapped in a blanket. He shut his eyes, and when Freya's nose backed away he opened his eyes again to see something rather shocking. Upon his wrist and arm was a glowing series of marks that looked like apostrophes and dots.

"_Vahrukiv him Monah,_" Freya whispered. Odin gave her a quizzical look, not understanding the strange language she used. It was similar to Khuzdul, yet not at the same time. The dragoness chuckled, "It means Commemorate your Mother… I could have said to respect the line of kings as well, but your thoughts have wandered to your mother the most…"

"What… What did you put on my arm?" Odin asked, still his eyes watched the runes as they pulsed and faded into his skin. He tested his hand, still not sure what strange dragon trickery she had placed on him.

"I gave you my blessing, just as I gave it to your parents upon their wedding day, Allfather," The dragoness tapped her claws upon the ground and then she sighed. "Odin, son of Thorin, I gave that blessing because you are the king of this realm now. So with _that_ out of the way, I ask you one thing. How will you deal with the threat of the Easterlings on your doorstep? The Lake-Men were practically wiped out aside from their women and children, and your people now stand in a pause of frenzy because they do not have a king and their kindred have been slaughtered like lambs."

Odin sighed heavily, passing a hand across his face. As his mind began to piece together a strategy, he heard footstep running up the steps and he instantly turned his attention over to the door where he saw Frigga standing in the doorway with stress etched into her face. Her dark gold hair was frizzy and as she approached him he saw great relief pass in her green eyes. Her hands shook as she looked him over and he gave her a gentle smile. Seeing her lightened his heart a bit, in fact he felt free of his grief when she came to him.

"I thought you were dead," Frigga murmured, her voice breaking in sadness. He chuckled, taking her shaking hands and placing a small kiss on the back of one of them making her squeak. "P-Prince Odin, w-what are you doing?"

"You should not worry so much, Frigga," He replied. "Could you find Kili and bring him to me?" The woman eyed him curiously, but started towards the door. He glanced up at Freya, who swished her tail and gave him a small wink. "Think I scared her?"

"You startled her, little one. You have your father's knack for loving people in odd ways," She told him. "You've heard the story of your father and mother thousands of times, yes?"

"Yes, why would I not? When you tell me that my father showed love in odd ways, I see it differently. Many of the things he did make perfect sense."

"Only a relation that father and son could have, I suppose." She laid her head down, and he placed his hand on her snout. He was pleased to know that one person still believed in him. He rubbed her scaly snout, feeling her presence touch his mind. His mother had told him that his elven blood allowed him to speak to Freya easier than most, and since he grown up with her; the bond was a second nature to him. He rarely used this power, for he found no use for it since Freya was quite vocal and the connection itself could only be used if Freya allowed him into her mind as well. "You are your father's son, Odin."

"I am the son of the King and Queen under the Mountain, Freya. I belong to both of them; I am a mixture of them both…"

"If you say so."

"Odin, you needed me?" Kili asked as he appeared in the doorway. His face was stern and his gold eyes still possessing their commanding nature. Odin assumed he must have just come down from the wall, probably watching the Easterlings. He walked over to Kili, gripping his cousin's shoulder. "What's on your mind?"

"Taking back Dale," Odin replied. A false smirk passed on his cousin's lips and he shook his head, not believing him. "Kili, I'm serious."

"I know you are, squirt," Kili teased, nudging him playfully. Odin knew if Fili were here he would agree with him without a second thought. Dale belonged to the remnants of the Lake-Men not the Easterlings. He narrowed his eyes into a dark glare making Kili stop his joking instantly. "Odin, you're mad! It's folly to even think about taking back that city."

"How? Would Bard not help us if Erebor was taken over by a rabble of madmen?"

Kili opened his mouth and then closed it, slightly pointing at him. "Yes," He covered his mouth with his hand, and started scuffing the ground with his boot. Now Kili has to use entire brain, that's gotta hurt in some fashion, the prince thought. He heard a small rumble from Freya, and he flicked his gaze over to her. Her stern gaze suggested to him that he stop his witty thinking. Kili groaned, "Ok, we'll pretend that we can actually take back that city. What insane plan do you have mind?"

Odin smiled in triumph, his cousin unable to think of anything else. "Well, we do have a fire drake; a certain daughter of Ancalagon the Black if my sources are correct." Freya perked up at the sound of that and he chuckled. Kili made a gesture for him to continue. "We also have a guard that can protect the wall from little strays, _but_ we do have that little force that Sol runs, no?"

"Not exactly the _best_ way of doing things in my book."

"And why should we shun them? They're good at using the shadows to their advantage. If we tell them to strike in the middle of the night armed with poisons, daggers, and whatever else they need; who says that they won't at least make a dent in their forces?"

Kili hummed, and then cocked his head to the side in thought. Odin smiled when Kili gave him an incline of his head.

Odin continued, "I can also call on Thranduil should we need-,"

"_Should?" _

"-_Will_ need his assistance with this endeavor, seeing as most of our people were killed."

"Anything else you wanna tell me?"

"I find blue jays annoying and I want you to shoot all of them."

Kili laughed, "Ok, I didn't need to know _that_. But tell me, how are you going to get a raven out when the Easterlings shoot most of them down?"

"Kili, what color are ravens?"

Kili frowned and his hand connected with his forehead. "Black and I am an idiot."

"Glad you admitted it." Kili shot him a dirty look and punched his arm swiftly before turning on his heel and leaving the hall. He chuckled to himself before his gaze landed on Freya, who had a rather amused expression on her face. The prince walked up to her and patted her snout gently. "Do you think you can handle that job, my dragon?"

"Aye, for my lost elleth. They will burn by my fire alone and they will rue the day they set foot upon the Desolation of Smaug."

Odin bowed his head to her, happy to know that the dragoness would back him in this seemingly impossible quest. His heart began to fill with a deep grief again when he started off to Cairn's Roost. The stairs seemed to climb on forever, and it made him stop halfway up to stop his aching heart. His plan seemed right in his mind; destroy the people who destroyed you… A wise man once said that when you go on an act of revenge you dig two graves; one for the person you kill and the other for yourself. That wise man apparently did not have his family killed and his people left to run around like chickens with their heads cut off. Odin knew this much, he was going to make those Easterlings regret stepping into the realm of Dale and the Lonely Mountain.

Upon entering Cairn's Roost, Hugin greeted with a chirp and flew down to him. He stroked Hugin gently as he tied a small note to the raven's leg. He led Hugin over to a window and told the raven to fly to Mirkwood. Hugin bobbed his head to Odin and then flew off into the night. Silently, Odin hoped that Hugin would make it to Mirkwood with the news and not be shot down by the Easterlings. He watched Hugin disappear into the midnight sky, thanking the Valar that the sky was overcast allowing Hugin a safer passage into the forests. Through the window, Odin could see the flickering lights of the ruined city of Dale. His heart sank when he started counting the individual fires and found that they exceeded fifty. He took a step back and left the Roost.

When he returned to the throne room, he found Frigga alone; no Freya or Kili. There was a little voice in his head that kept nagging and mocking him that he was too shy around her. Yes, he was shy around her; he didn't know what forced him into this state, but he hated it. He approached Frigga quietly, watching her as if she were foreign to him. He always found her eyes beautiful; a deep shade of emerald that were always happy. Odin sat beside her and rested his hand upon the back of hers. She tensed up, but turned her hand over to grasp his tightly. Her hands were smooth and rather slender for their kind.

"You seem worried," Odin whispered causing Frigga to grip his hands even tighter making him internally cringe. "Frigga, it's all right."

"I thought you were dead… It is bad enough that your mother and father are gone now, but… But I don't think I could lose you," Frigga replied. He raised her gaze up to his, watching as her green eyes became teary. "I grew up with you and you are my dearest friend."

"I promise you I won't die," Odin gave her a smile and she returned it. "But I want you to not worry so much."

"Odin, you cannot honestly believe that I won't worry."

The prince watched her intently, and slowly she gave him a nod. It was more a regretful nod than one of agreement. Ever so gently, he pulled her into him and let her rest her head against his chest. She relaxed in his grip and he rested his chin on her head. "I beg of you, please do not worry, Frigga."

He felt a strange heat spread across his skin when she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. "I will not worry, so long as you come back."

He took a deep breath, whispering into her hair that he would come back. The Easterlings had taken so much, and he understood Frigga's worry. They hadn't found Tyr, and Balder was too much of a flirt to care about her, and that left Frigga with him. This woman had been a part of his life, and he would not deny that he cared for her, but would not openly admit it. No, he would not openly admit his great love for her. He understood why his father cherished his mother so much. The love of a woman was a comfort, yet an oddity all at the same time. Well, possibly the latter didn't apply to his parents anymore… His heart gave out a twang of pain that reminded him that they were gone.

"Frigga, did my mother have another one of these pendants?" He asked as he withdrew the white stone pendant from his armor. Frigga sat back, observing the pendant closely and her eyes narrowed.

"I've seen another in the king's study, why?" Frigga replied softly. He stood and she rose with him. There was a thought that began plaguing him when he had thought about his parents. Thranduil had told him once there the necklace had a twin. He started off towards his father's study with Frigga following him. He had not been in his father's study since he was little, but remembered the pathway through the higher levels to the door. He approached the door, pressing his hand against the cool handle. He pushed open the door to find the room cold and darker than pitch. "Odin, what are you doing?"

"There's a twin, Frigga," Odin said as he tumbled around in the dark for something to grab onto. He heard her sigh shortly and suddenly a candle's light illuminated the room. Lines of bookshelves stood sentinel along the walls of the room and something caught his eyes as they flicked around the room; something shiny. On the mantle sat a blonde wood box engraved with a leaf. A silver latch held the lid shut and temptation got the better of him, causing his fingers to start to pry open the box. The metal was cold, but the latch popped open after much struggle. The box was old, causing the latch to be rather stubborn to open. Lying in a pool of red velvet, sat an exact copy of his father's white stone pendant. Frigga came to his side, looking at the pendant closely. "Thranduil was right…"

"There were two?"

Odin nodded and gently picked up the necklace and felt his breath slip away. He wondered why his father would hide such a gift. He flicked his gaze over to Frigga and then at the pendant. "Frigga, look at me."

She turned her attention to him and he tucked away his father's necklace before setting the candle aside making her look up at him with a bit of pink on her cheeks. He unhooked the latch that held the necklace and then gave her a small smile. She swept her hair to the side allowing him to slip the necklace around her neck and latch it back together. Her fingers brushed over the pendant lightly before glancing back up at him.

"I can't have this," Frigga whispered.

Odin smiled as he clutched his father's necklace. "I am the king of this realm, and I think you should keep it," He brushed away one long curl and she shrunk away from him. "And it fits you quite well, Frigga."

He looked away from her and then closed the box. He felt Frigga's hand close around his wrist and felt her kiss his cheek lightly before slipping away. She whispered her thanks in his ear, but could barely hear over the beating of his heart. He could have sworn that the whole kingdom could hear it; it beat so loud that the typical noise from below was blocked out. He tried to speak, but it came out gibberish and he shook his head. He dared not try to walk anywhere, so he stayed in the study trying to regain himself. He silently cursed his heart as he attempted to walk, but his legs would not even attempt such a feat, making him land face first on the ground. That's it, he thought, I'll just lay here.

Odin lay on the floor for a while, slowly inching his way towards the door. His heart had calmed down, but his body was still not in its right mind. He heard footsteps coming up the steps, Kili's in fact. Kili was humming a song, but stopped when he spied Odin lying on the ground like a dead animal.

"Are you dead?" Kili whispered, poking his cousin's forehead. Odin's eyes snapped open making Kili jump back. "What in the world has gotten into you?"

"A girl," Odin murmured. Slowly a wicked smile passed across Kili's face. "Don't. You. Start," He was pointing at Kili each time he spoke the words and Kili snickered.

"Odin has a girlfriend," Kili sang. That warranted Odin to sit up with an agitated fire in his eyes and he pounced on Kili, who was laughing like a madman. "Who is it? Tell me, I wanna know." Odin narrowed his eyes at Kili, who was too busy laughing to pay any attention. He sat on Kili's chest, playing with the pendant subconsciously. Kili pushed him off of him and wrapped an arm around his cousin's shoulders after he gained control of his immature outburst. "Come on, I won't tell anyone."

"Yes you will," Odin drawled.

Kili let out a humorless laugh, "Ok, yes I will, but still tell me."

"Frigga," Odin answered.

Kili blinked, thinking about her for a moment. "It was only a matter of time."

"Was not!"

"Was too, and don't try to deny the fact that you've been acting like a moonstruck calf over her."

"What do you know about love?"

"A lot actually, considering the fact that I was around when your parents were getting to know each other. Thankfully, you don't have the same type of relationship as they did, because then I might have to slap some sense into you."

Odin rolled his eyes, and then hid his face in his elbows. "I hate you."

"I love you too, squirt."

"I am not short I am actually taller than you!"

"Ok, yes, thank your elven blood for that, but other than that you are as much a dwarf as I am." Odin attempted to contradict him but shut his mouth before he got into a banter fight with his cousin. Kili ruffled his hair playfully. "That's what I thought."

Odin slipped Kili's arm off of him and he stood, now in control of his limbs. "What were my parents like before Erebor came to be like this?"

"Your father hated your mother until Mirkwood, and then something kinda snapped. We _still_ don't know what possessed him to choose an elf really. It was kind of odd because of his hatred for your mother's race. I wish I could ask him what made him choose your mother," Kili stood rolling his shoulders back. "Are you staying up to wait for Sol?"

"Depends, I can't seem to bring myself to sleep."

"Understandable," Kili patted his shoulder. "If you need me for anything just come and find me, all right?"

"Thanks, Kili."

Kili gave him a smile, "I've watched you grow up all of your life. I don't like seeing you in pain, never have, never will. Death is hard, I'll say that much."

Odin chuckled, "Someone's been listening to Freya ramble on, I see."

"Be quiet, you."

His cousin disappeared down a series of steps leaving Odin to stare into the darkness of his father's study. He felt the necklace around his neck become heavy; or rather his mind was telling him it was deathly heavy. It was the last bit of his father that he hung onto along with Orcrist. But his father's sword did not mean as much to him as the necklace did. Odin started off towards his room, and when he opened his door he found Fenrir stretched out on his bed taking up the entire space. He couldn't believe that his dog was sleeping on his bed…

"Fenrir," Odin said sharply. Fenrir lifted his head, his eyes half open and his tail wagging weakly. Odin started removing his armor piece by piece, and his hands halted over Orcrist. "Come here, boy."

The hound leapt off of his master's bed and came up to his master and sat. Odin slipped Orcrist out of his belt and handed it to Fenrir. The hound took it and placed it on the end table, then returned to Odin. The prince smiled, giving his dog a small pat on the head. At least he still had Fenrir, his aunt, and Kili left. He honestly did not wish for his parents and older cousin to leave this world in such a cruel manner, but that was how war functioned he guessed. Sleep did not come to him, nor could he force himself down. He was stuck in a strange place in between grief and hope. He did not know where the latter came from, but a small section of his mind told him that everything would be fine.

He felt Fenrir's soft head beneath his hand making his gaze fall on his hound. He kneeled down and took Fenrir's face, placing a light kiss on his dog's head. Fenrir let out a whine and licked Odin's face gently as if he understood his master's pain.

"I'm glad you understand, Fenrir," Odin whispered. He shut his eyes, touching his forehead to Fenrir's with his heart shuddering in his chest in sorrow. Slowly, Odin slipped his arms around Fenrir's neck and all of his pent up sadness fell through his mind's walls and tears slipped free. "At least you understand how foolish this is."

* * *

Tauriel sat perched like a agile cat in the trees observing the black depths of her forest. The halls of her lord were running wild after Sauron had attacked a few days ago. The battle had been won by the elves with light casualties. In the sky above her, she heard a loud squawk making her snap her gaze upward. Above her was a raven, moreover a raven from Erebor and such a bird made her heart about stop. She clambered up the tree's branches and whistled for the raven.

The raven landed on her forearm, sticking out its leg for her. A small note was attached to his leg and Tauriel removed it, reading its contents. It was from Coruwen's son, Odin, current King under the Mountain. Tauriel paused and read the title again. Had Tauriel not been perched securely in the tree, she would have dropped out of said tree in an instant upon reading the message; Coruwen, Thorin, Brand, Dain, Fili, and Bard were slain in battle.

The Captain of the Guard dropped out of the tree, running back into the halls of the Elvenking pushing past healers and soldiers, trying to find Thranduil. She found the Elvenking in his study with Himon, both of whom looked at her and asked why she left her post.

"This… This came," Tauriel panted as she handed the note to Himon. Himon, being the temperamental ellon he was, started to tighten his hands into fist, crunching the letter. Thranduil snatched the letter from his general and Tauriel could have sworn that she saw his green eyes flash with wrath. He folded the letter up neatly, setting it on his desk. The king came around his desk and took her shoulders. "My lord?"

"I need you to find as many guards that are able to fight, Tauriel. Tell them to head to the exit of Mirkwood, I will be joining you when I find one of my advisors," Thranduil ordered, releasing her and starting out of his study with Himon blinking in mild shock. Tauriel looked at him and then at the hallway.

"Together?" Tauriel inquired, sweeping a hand through her red hair.

"I think that will be in best interest. I don't think I've ever seen him this livid," Himon replied as he passed her with is green cloak billowing behind him. "Come on, Tauriel!

Tauriel whirled around and ran after Himon with her mind wandering to the Elvenking. Himon was right; the Elvenking was a calm and cunning man, never overstepping his emotional boundaries. This news only worsened his all ready growing anger. Sauron had caused great stress on him, but with the death of the elleth he considered his daughter; the boundaries that existed in the Elvenking's mind were released. The elleth worried for the kingdom of Erebor and how they must be coping with loss of so many lives.

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**A/N: Can you guys believe that there are only a few chapters left? I know I can't. Technically, Odin is now King but he is just in a tad bit of denial. I also felt like you guys needed some cute moments because lately, its been rather depressing. **

**Please review and tell me what you think. :) **


	27. Chapter 27

_**Music Suggestion: Fear Not this Night by Asja and Jeremy Soule **_

_**Fear Not This Night**_

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**-March 27, 3019-**

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Odin lay against the furs with Fenrir curled up beside him with his head lying on his master's chest. His hand came up and rubbed Fenrir's plush ears as he cracked open his eyes. He had managed to actually get some sleep. He sat up, cradling Fenrir's head in his arms as the hound yawned with his pink tongue curling inward as his jaws opened wide. Odin smiled as he let Fenrir off of his bed. He watched his hound for a while, his nimble body arcing and his tail beginning to wag ever so slightly. He ran a hand across the base of his neck, his body slowly waking up. His door was cracked open and Odin heard Kili's voice through the crack.

"Kili," Odin stated. His cousin's head poked through the door, his dark brown hair mussed with the majority hanging in his eyes. Odin figured that he must've just woken up, for his apparel was skewed. "What's wrong?"

Kili shut his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Sol just got back," He replied. Odin approached his cousin as he entered the room with Fenrir starting to dance near his feet. The prince's concern reignited again upon hearing Kili's statement and his eyes never left his cousin. "Killed seventy two, left three poisoned."

"That's good!" Odin exclaimed with a smile on his face. Kili gave him a grave look and he shrunk back. There was more; there always was. He sat on his bed, hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His blues eye turned a dark shade of ocean blue and Kili gripped his cousin's shoulders tightly. "What did they find?"

"They found Fili," Kili muttered, his voice cracking under the force of the issue. Odin removed Kili's hand feeling the tremors within. "His throat was cut with a poisoned knife. Must've happened while they had him tied up." Kili's gold eyes darkened and they became glossy. "I don't understand… I-I thought they would've at least waited."

"Kili, it's not your fault," Odin comforted, trying to soothe his cousin's fear. Kili gave him a dark glare making him back up a bit. He could do nothing at this point in time; it was up to Kili to drag himself out of the mental ditch he was digging. "We'll have time to mourn later. We have a tribe of Easterlings to flush out in Dale. I suppose that will get your mind off of things," Odin saw Kili nod out of the corner of his eye and he started donning his armor. Under his breath, he whispered, "Or so I hope."

Fenrir joined his side once he had finished and grabbed Orcrist before leaving. All the way back to the throne room, Kili was silent, not making a single noise aside from the noise of his boots upon the stone. The halls themselves could have made someone deaf with the amount of people shouting orders mingled with the sounds of armor clanging. He pushed open the iron doors of the throne room to find Freya sitting behind the stone thrones with her long tail wrapped around a pillar. No light touched the room; in fact the room seemed bleak with a strange tension. The faces of his people were solemn, including Freya. As he approached her, he ran a hand across her scales with the hopes of lightening her spirits.

"Someone has come for you, Odin," Freya whispered as her amber gaze rose to the doors once more. She seemed rather trained on the person, or persons, coming through the doorway. He turned his gaze to follow hers, and spied Thranduil, Tauriel, and Himon in the doorway.

Thranduil was dressed in silver banded armor with ivy engraved upon the epilates and gauntlets. Two circular clasps held a dark green cloak on his shoulders. His silver-blonde hair was braided back on the sides and his face stern with his eyes catching an almost strange wrath within that Odin had never seen in him. He strode forward with Himon behind him and Tauriel after him.

Himon, the right hand of the Elvenking, wore similar armor to that of his lord but his cloak possessed a hood. His hair was coal black and loose around his shoulders. His eyes were a stormy cerulean and set into a chiseled face. At his hip was a steel sword with a pommel in the shape of a wild cat's head.

Finally, Tauriel stopped before Kili giving him a sad look that made him turn away instantly. Her auburn hair was in one long plait down her back and had great contrast to the dark green and brown armor she wore. On either side of her hips were two long knives with her gloved hands resting on one pommel.

Odin gave Thranduil a bow of his head, who returned it. The wrathful fire that had clouded the Elvenking's eyes seemed to fade when he looked upon Odin. The prince found it rather odd that Thranduil had come; or rather he was surprised that Thranduil came to him personally.

"I am sorry for the delay, Odin. We had a small mess to clean up," Thranduil stated calmly. "On our way here, we took care of the Easterlings that occupied Esgaroth. Now all that remains are those in Dale."

"You have my thanks, Elvenking. It did not come to my attention that there was even an encampment within that ruin," Odin replied. "How many still linger in Dale?"

"Very little, most fled during the night," Sol reported. Odin glanced over at Sol looking her over before his gaze returned to Thranduil. She was pale, deathly pale, yet she still held herself tall despite her lack of sleep. "We found only the previous Crowned Prince dead."

"I see," Came Thranduil's reply, 'Then if what your second in command says is true then let us be on our way and finish off these attackers, shall we?" He motioned at both Tauriel and Himon to depart and then he let out a short sigh. Odin glanced up to watch the Elvenking. He became curious to this strange behavior; why he had acted so quickly upon Erebor's behalf. It could've been the fact that Odin was ruling over it now; or it could have been the fact that the Easterlings took Coruwen from him. Odin didn't know, nor would he ask. His curiosity was simply that of a young man curious to the knowledge and thought pattern of those old than he. Thranduil glanced down and a faint, sad smile creased his face. "You will be a fine king, Odin. It is in your blood, you need only think about it and it will come."

Without thinking, he blurted, "Why did you come?"

The look of surprise from Thranduil made Odin begin to mentally chastise himself for blurting like a young child. Damn his curious nature! The Elvenking chuckled and patted the prince's head softly. "You most likely knew this, but I loved your mother as my daughter and you my grandson. I will not let your mother's death be taken lightly, nor will I let the Easterlings slip by," Thranduil answered. "Your mother was dying, my boy. But she should not have died in such a…" He shut his eyes tightly, pinching the space between his eyes. "I'll explain when the battle is over. Too much is going on right now, Odin."

"I understand," Odin whispered. He controlled the impulse to ask why, why did he let his mother's death impact him so? Odin knew that his mother died in a rather inelegant way along with his father and cousin. Especially his father…. His father was a leader, strong-willed, proud, and cared for his people. He did not deserve to die by a cutthroat's hand. And then something snapped within Odin that made his blood begin to boil at the thought. His mind spat hateful thoughts and desired him to speak curses towards the Easterlings. The wrath died down when he looked upon the Easterlings' encampment and their numbers had lessened significantly. Something must have chased the Easterlings off during the night...

The ground around Dale was burnt black, the stone charred and the hide tents incinerated into piles of smoking ash. Odin started down Erebor's slopes with Thranduil to inspect the ruins of Dale. Odin saw a small regiment of elves threading themselves throughout the ruins. Odin passed a hand against the steel enforced gates of Dale, the heat of the fire that had burned them still hot to the touch even though the flames had died. It was strange; he'd never seen such an occurrence before. He heard a crunch beneath his boot and felt his stomach turn at what he saw.

Bones… Bones burnt black and clean as if wolves had ravaged them. He glanced back at Thranduil exchanging a puzzled look with the elf as they tried to picture what went on before they arrived. Odin wove his way through the hide tents, finding them abandoned with the Easterlings' belongings still inside. The prince figured they were attacked during the night; but what attacked them was the question. Odin narrowed his eyes at the state of the charred remains of the encampment.

"Freya did this," Odin stated. He scratched his face absentmindedly, wondering how Freya could have burned the encampment. His mind had many ideas; she could have struck when Sol left, or she snuck out after the group had returned. A cough drew his attention to a patch of untouched stone and ground. There, chained to the wall, armor stripped from him with bloody whip marks upon his body, was Bard. His dark brown hair was matted with dirt and dried blood, his face ghostly pale, and his breathing shallow. Odin's heart stopped in his chest as she approached Bard cautiously, watching him as if he were a spectre. "Bard, are you all right?"

Bard's hazel eyes rose from the ground, and a weak smile creased his face. His smile faded when a cough tore through his frail body. Odin knelt before his friend, his hands trying to remove the irons that held his arms up. When he could not open the clasps, Odin felt his heart sink when he saw the black tint touching some of the wounds on Bard's shoulders and chest.

"Balder!" Odin shouted over his shoulder. His fingers feathered across the wounds, gracing one causing Bard to howl in pain. Odin flinched at the pain in his voice. Balder appeared in his side vision and he signed to him to get the clasps open. Balder withdrew his one of his picks a throwing knife and began to work on the lock. "Are there any more survivors, Bard?"

"Maybe," Bard rasped through the pain of his right arm falling to his side. "Find… the Generals' tent…"

Odin nodded and left Bard, his heart still lost in its own grief. Many times during his search he tripped over bones, or snapping them with his boots. He stopped before a large hide tent with a burnt corpse kneeling before it, holding what looked like a child in its arms. He stared in shock of the corpse's attempt at protection. He knelt before the corpse, withdrawing a piece of half-burnt blue cloth. The cloth was brittle; Odin looked at the corpse and then the cloth. He hoped that he never had to deal with this in his lifetime again. There was too much loss, too much pain involved, too many being slain using the name of the lord they served who feared stepping out of his home.

Odin swept back the flap of the tent, his eyes searching the tent interior. A simple trunk and light blonde furs covered the floor. A pass of darkness made his attention snap over to it. Leaning on a wooden support was his mother's frail body. Her gold hair stuck to her face, colored dark by her blood. Her leather armor had not been touched aside from a great tear from her right shoulder to the left side of her waist. Had Odin not been gifted with sharper senses, he would have not seen her shallow breathing. Odin approached her at a dreadfully slow gait, one hands trying to reach for her as sorrow and relief flashed in his eyes.

When he came closer, Odin found her blue eyes staring up at him with a thread of life lingering behind. He could see it; her life dancing in between the Halls of Mandos and the earthly plain. He thought about turning to call for Thranduil, but there were too many emotions fraying his mind that it slipped free.

"Odin…" Coruwen murmured her voice hoarse. One slender hand reached up for him, which he clung to in an instant with his knees buckling, forcing him to the ground. The weakest and smallest of smiles creased her face at the sight of him. He couldn't tell what emotion toyed with his heartstrings that moment; it was the middle ground between happiness and sorrow. He wanted her to live on, but the flickering life in her eyes told him different. Tears began to sting his eyes as he stroked her hands with his thumbs. "Sweetheart, don't cry."

"How can I not? I'm going to lose you," Odin whispered, his voice thickening with emotion. He shut his eyes, feeling the sadness well up in his chest like a rising wave. "It's not fair… There must be a way to save you!"

Coruwen used what little strength she possessed and pulled him closer to him. He crept near her, nestling his face against her dwindling pulse. Her hands stroked his hair softly and kissed his forehead. "There is nothing can save me now, my son. I am too far gone, and the same can be said for your father," She replied. Odin gritted his teeth, holding back the waves of sadness crashing on his soul. "You knew of my ailment… It was only a matter of time; I would have gone just as painfully."

"No you wouldn't have!" Odin objected. "You would have been happy. You're clearly in pain!"

Coruwen gave out a sad laugh, shaking her head a bit. "Odin, sweetheart, I _am_ happy. I will say that I was happy up until the end. The happiness and love you and your father gave outweighs the pain I gained over the years. You are the greatest thing that I brought into this world." He felt his throat constrict and he curled close to his mother; his internal child breaking through. He could hear her heart within her chest; it was slowing and skipping every other beat. "I love you more than you could ever know, Odin. I will ask this of you once, and no more, dear."

"Anything, Nana," He muttered. He buried his face into her neck, and despite the scent of copper clinging to her, he could still smell the scent of roses and spring air on her. A scent that he often associated with her.

"Let me go," She answered. Odin backed away from her, horror stricken. The statement was clear to read upon her face; she was done with fighting to cling to life now. He shook his head, unable to do it. She was his mother; he didn't want her to leave him. "Please Odin… I will see you again, but please… Let me go."

"No," Odin objected.

Coruwen smiled, "You are your father's son, I see."

"I will not let you go. Not yet," He held both of her hands, letting his tears fall upon them. His heart finally began to break into pieces as she told him her final wish. He clung to her, trying to hold her physical body still as if that would prevent her spirit from leaving. He felt her hands run through his hair gently. Behind him a crack sounded, making him sit up abruptly. Thranduil stood in the tent's entrance, a mixture of disbelief and grief written on his fair face. Odin backed away from his mother allowing Thranduil to approach her, but still he held onto her hand with one finger touching her pulse. The Elvenking knelt beside her and took her hand in his with the grief beginning to set into his face.

"Coruwen, you're-," Thranduil whispered, his voice breaking before he cut himself off. Coruwen leaned her head against his shoulder, and he kissed her hair lightly. Thranduil glanced over at Odin, and the prince saw a great pain etched in his eyes. "Let her go, Odin."

Odin's eyes widened in shock, "No, I won't," Odin snapped.

Thranduil tried to speak again but Coruwen raised her hand up to stop him. "Odin, I know your fear," She said gently, her hand sliding free of his. Her slender hands took the sides of his face forcing him to look into her eyes. "But you are the son of a great king. Never doubt that leadership is in your blood, but you force it away. Your father is more than likely gone, and I am joining him. The position of King falls to you, sweetheart." Her hand passed across his face once more and her lips pressed against his forehead lightly. "I love you, Odin…"

She fell against the wooden support again taking a deep breath. Odin heard her release the breath as her eyes fluttered closed. His heart gave out, fed up with writhing in its own grief and he felt tears slip down his cheeks. Thranduil stood with his face impassive yet his eyes clouded with great sorrow. The prince took raspy breaths, trying to quell the surging sadness within his heart. He heard Balder outside and he told himself he had kingdom to rule, yet he could not tear himself from his mother's last words.

"Thranduil, I'll see to my mother, go see if you locate my father," Odin stated, clearing his mind of all negative emotions. The Elvenking gave him a bow of his head before disappearing out of the tent. Odin placed his forehead against his mother's, "I love you too, Mother." At her side, he saw the Dragon Blade and took it without a second thought. Despite the pain in his heart, he stood and found the nearest Lake-Man to point in her general direction. His mother believed in his ability to become king… She believed in him, and he was starting to believe in himself. The blade in his hand was light, almost like wielding a feather rather than a sword. He unsheathed the Dragon Blade a bit, running a hand along the fine edge of the blade. "Smaug's tooth… How, ironic," He chuckled.

"Odin!" Balder called, drawing his attention. Balder's grey eyes were panicked making Odin curious as he drew near his friend. "We've found your father and Tyr."

"What? A-Are they all right?" Odin asked, concern falling into his voice. Balder avoided his gaze, and Odin's heart sank. They're gone, he thought. His heart was all ready broken but now there was a feeling of emptiness in his heart as if someone had stomped on his heart's shattered remains. "I see…"

"What of your mother?"

"Same…" Odin glanced up at Balder catching the pained look in his friend's eyes. Hesitantly, he gripped Balder's shoulder and Balder chuckled humorlessly. Balder, though the lighter-hearted one of Dwalin's boys, seemed suddenly grim and melancholic. "Balder, I'm sorry…"

Balder shook his head, "its fine."

Odin didn't believe him, but did not wish to press the matter further knowing that Balder had lost a literal half of himself. He released Balder and found Thranduil once more. The Elvenking was counting the dead, ally and enemy, as they passed by him. Odin caught a small glance from the Elvenking before he started counting again.

"How many?"

"I lost count, I believe. At least one hundred dead, a few here and there that will be going off to the Halls of Mandos."

"Thranduil, you said you would explain my mother's meaning to me after this."

Thranduil sighed, "I suppose I did, didn't I?" The ellon started back towards Erebor with Odin following him and the two were silent for most of the journey. It wasn't until they passed Ravenhill that Thranduil stopped. "Your mother was strong and self-willed. When she declared that she would leave the ranks of the elves of Lothlórien and Imladris many turned their backs on her; her father included. She became distraught after that incident, but I kept her near. It seemed wrong to cast a woman out simply because of the person she chose to love." Odin watched Thranduil intently; the Elvenking seemed a tad regretful about the choice he made. The story of his father and mother was identical to that of Beren and Lúthien, even to the point where Lúthien was cast out of elven culture because of her choices. "I do not regret what I did, but rather the actions following."

"What followed?" Odin inquired, resting the Dragon Blade's scabbard on the stone.

"Your mother was shunned by the people she knew, and most everything that dealt with our kind involving her, had to be dealt with through me. I wasn't taking too kindly to that."

Odin chuckled, "I wouldn't either."

Thranduil pated Odin's shoulder gently and motioned up to Erebor's gates. "You have people to look after, my boy. I suggest you start controlling them."

"How hard can it be?"

The Elvenking laughed, shaking his head. In his mind, Odin saw no problems with controlling Erebor's people. His father did it rather easily… He cast a small glare at Thranduil, who withheld his chuckle by clearing his throat. "Famous last words, young one."

"Or so you say," Odin said with a great amount of pride. "I, for one, see that this task shall be a challenge, yet easy at the same time."

"And I think you are tapping into your father's blood, now stop it."

Odin chuckled as he started up the slope towards the main gates. He had people to look after, seeing as he was the unofficial King under the Mountain. He found that title hard to believe; he knew that one day it would fall to him. His mother's words gave him a tad bit of pride, his father's blade gave him guidance, and soon his life would be in line again.

* * *

**-April 5, 3019-**

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The days that came were calm and full of rehabilitation of both physical and mental state for all. The dead had either been burned or buried; the services completed allowing many to be relieved. Freya had begun to tears out the old stonework in large chunks, ferrying them off to make new towers near Esgaroth. The dragoness had returned to Erebor for a long awaited celebration; the crowning of both the Lord of Dale and King under the Mountain.

Odin ran a hand across the light grey wolf fur adorning the shoulders of his coat feeling the bristly, yet softness of the fur. The coat he wore was dark blue in color aside from the fur that was stitched the bottom and shoulders. He wore a tunic of black with silver embroidered in it to appear like chainmail. On his forearms were polished steel gauntlets with swirling knots to form a three pointed star with a circle in the middle. He started adjusting the straps on his gauntlets and his belt in a nervous fit until he heard someone behind him making him jump.

In the doorway was Frigga, in a dress of jade green with lined with gold. Her hair was plaited with white ribbon and a pretty smile on her face that made him turn a bit pink. She giggled and approached him, greeting him with a playful tug on his tunic sleeve.

"You look rather kingly like that," Frigga laughed. Odin snorted making Frigga giggle again.

"What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be helping my aunt?" Odin asked her as he rested a hand on Orcrist. He kept his face impassive despite the giddiness building in his heart. The way her eyes sparkled and her pretty smile made his heart flip in his chest. She shook her head warranting a cryptic look from him. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I wanted to come see you, and well…" Frigga's voice drifted off for a moment in thought, He saw her fingers fiddling with the white stone pendant around her neck that he had given her. She smiled shyly at the ground. "I wanted to thank you for this gift. I know you say I deserve it and all, but I guess I doubted your judgment for a spell."

"You're welcome," Odin answered, a smile of his own creasing his face as he embraced her. She stiffened for a few seconds before leaning into him. A little thought in the back of his mind told him to push the boundaries of the friend-zone, but he pushed it away. If Frigga wanted to accept him as such, she would act as so. She pulled away from him with his hands on her shoulders. "Now, you should probably return to my aunt before she starts to worry."

Frigga flashed a smile up at him before running off. He heard another set of footsteps coming towards his room and he sighed annoyed. He wanted a bit of time to himself for once. He kept his gaze locked on the doorway, finding that Kili and Bard both stood in the doorway. Bard had his hair braided back on the sides with a few strands framing his face. He wore a black cloak with brown fur on the back. He wore a tunic of dark red with black breeches.

Kili gave him a smile and then motioned backwards. Odin took a deep breath, trying to soothe the anxious nerves dancing throughout his system. The trio made their way towards the main hall where the people of Dale, Esgaroth, Erebor, and Mirkwood sat in wait for their lords to appear. Odin heard the sounds of people from within and his heart about stopped. His aunt stood on the steps before the great doors with Frigga and Bard's mother.

"Are you ready?" Dís asked him as he began to finger Orcrist's hilt in anxiety. Kili bumped his shoulder playfully and he swatted his cousin back warranting a snicker from him. Dís shot Kili a scolding look and he averted his gaze to the floor. She gripped his upper elbow tightly and gave him a soft smile. "You'll do fine. You have Kili and Balder as your advisors, after all."

Odin let out a short sigh and then gave her a nod telling her he was ready. She chuckled, giving a gesture for Kili to open the doors before taking her son's arm. Odin felt Frigga grip his arm and slowly looped his arm with hers. The people within the room were beyond count, the Lake-Men and elves on the right side and the dwarves of Erebor upon the left. Their chatter died down instantly the doors opened with their gazes becoming affixed on the people in the doorway. Odin looked down the makeshift aisle spying Freya lying behind the stone thrones.

Odin had never known dragons to wear jewelry or armor, but Freya wore a great necklace of silver and tiger eyes around her neck almost matching the tint of her eyes. Her scales were polished to catch the soft sunlight and she smiled down at the people below. The stage fright he had taken on lightened a bit at the sight of Freya. It was when Frigga departed his side that made his heart jump to his throat. All eyes were trained upon him and Bard. From his position beside Bard, Odin felt the anxiety radiating off of his friend. In-between them were Dís and Kili with Freya towering above them.

"Good friends, we have gathered within these great halls to celebrate the crowning of the Lord of Dale _and_ the King under the Mountain; a task that has not been done for nearly sixty years," Dís began drawing the attention away from Bard and Odin. "The losses of our people were great, but in time they will be fixed with these young men as our guides. Granted, they are young and little sense of may, or may not come, but that is how life and age function. Let them guide our cities well with their lives free of grievances."

Brand's second in command stepped forward, freeing himself of the crowd, and approached Bard with a circlet of silver with two blood red onyxes set into the middle. Bard knelt before the second in command allowing him to set the circlet upon his brow. Odin saw Kili standing before him with a crown formed of tarnished silver with faded engravings of Cirth runes. He copied his friend, feeling the crown's weight upon his head. The metal was cold and was devouring the heat his body gave it.

"Arise, King under the Mountain and Lord of Dale," Freya announced. Odin and Bard stood together with the silence of the room clinging to them before a clap was heard in the far back of the vast room. Quickly the cheer spread throughout the room filling Odin with a strange sense of pride. He glanced over at Kili, who was clapping for his cousin with a genuine on his face. Interrupting the cheer was Freya's roar making many stare up at her in horror. "A dragon's greeting, for the new lords."

"Thank you, Freya," Odin stated with a smile. "I hope the days that come will be ones of peace and happiness. My father was an honorable man, and many would say that he was one the greatest kings to rule these halls. I hope I can live up that standard."

There was a loud cheer from the dwarves making Odin bow his head to his people. Bard spoke to his people in the tongue of Lake-Men and that warranted cheer for him. Bard cast a smile over at Odin before stepping down from the dais and becoming swarmed by people. Eventually, the swarms of people spread thin and left the hall. He let out a sigh before turning back to Freya and the stone thrones. His mind drifted off for a second to a memory of being young.

"_One day, this seat will be yours and everything that Erebor's shadow touches will be your land…" _

"_Even Dale?" _

"_No, Dale belongs to Bard, but everything that surrounds Esgaroth and Dale will be yours." _

Odin remembered the conversation well, and his heart ached at the thought of his father. The man that he follow after, the man that he admired more than anyone in Middle-Earth. He missed him and as he came to sit in the throne of his forefathers he heard his mother's laugh in his ears drawing his attention upward to the beam of light that came through a small window. He felt a hand on his shoulder with the grip loose.

"Odin, I'm going to hunt for a bit, I will return to you," Freya stated as she stood before padding out of the main hall, slithering her serpentine body through the door. Odin glanced over at the hand on his shoulder, tracing the arm upward to shadowed figure that removed its hand and then mutated its body into a lion. The king found that the creature was a spectre and that Kili and Dís had not seen it. He glanced between the lion and Kili and then back.

"Kili, I'll be back in a moment," Odin stated, trying to keep the rising nervousness out of his voice. He chased after the lion that started down a flight of stairs toward the lower levels making Odin pause. Why would it go down there? What was down there? He shook off the thoughts, pursuing the lion that ran through his halls. The halls began to change into the old ruins of what Erebor used to be sixty years ago. A crumbling, Dwarven city with tarnished walls and cracking ceilings. The lion halted before a great bronze door with the crest of Durin wrought in gold on the door. "What in the name is going on?"

Hesitantly, he pushed open the door to see the lion, now golden with bright blue eyes, sitting beside a golden, blue eyed dragoness and a black dragon with sapphire eyes. A sleek black otter sat on its hind legs with its head tilted curiously to the side. Beside the black dragon was a white, snowy owl and next to the gold dragon was a white-silver fox with storm grey eyes.

"Ok, I've officially lost my mind," Odin muttered. "That, or Kili slipped something into my food again." He started mentally rationalizing why there were animals before him. "I'm asleep, I'm drunk, or I'm combination of the two and nobodies told me." The otter let out a chirp making him jump. "Be quiet, otter."

"That's no way to treat your uncle," A voice teased. The voice was familiar, gentle and deep. Odin whirled around to where the lion had been sitting and found Fili sitting on a fallen pillar instead in his armor with a smirk on his lips. Odin's heart gave out at the sight of his cousin and ran to embrace him. Fili chuckled, ruffling his hair softly. "That looks good on you, kiddo. We're all proud of you."

"We?" Odin repeated.

"Yes," A baritone voice replied firmly. Odin glanced over his shoulder to see his father, Balin, his mother, and a strange elf and dwarf that he did not know. Odin fell to his knees at the sight with his mother's happy gaze falling on him. His father started towards him and Odin stood before his father gripped his shoulders tightly, looking him over. "My boy, look at you…" Thorin chuckled quietly. "A King, after all these years."

"I didn't want to become king like this, you know," Odin pointed out. "It seemed a tad wrong."

Thorin sighed, "We all can't have our way, Odin." Quickly, Thorin pulled his son into him in a firm embrace whispering, "I'm proud of you… Know that much."

Odin swallowed the growing relief in his soul at his father's words. He released his father and Thorin backed away. Odin found it hard to believe that this was happening. He didn't care if someone had played a trick on him; he was happy. The past few days he had been living with the constant reminder that he couldn't save any of his family aside from Kili and Dís. One could say that it bothered him greatly.

"How is this possible?" Odin asked them. Coruwen interlocked arms with the strange elf before descending the stairs to greet him. "Nana how is this happening?"

"Your foresight, Odin," Coruwen answered gently. Her slender hand pressed up against his face. Her hands were warm like sun upon a rock. They differed from when her hands had touched his face when she was dying. It was strange, most of his life her hands had been freezing but now they were warm with life once more. "What you are seeing is what Manwë wishes for you to see, and he wished for you to see us. And what you are feeling is the Life of the Eldar, something I gave up when I chose your father."

"It's strange," Odin murmured, removing her hand from his face. Her face was no longer as pale; she was physically and spiritually bright with life. "That meant all of my life you were dying?"

"Yes," Coruwen said. "But I do not regret it."

Odin shifted his glance to the ellon with his mother. He was gifted with silver-blonde hair and grey eyes with a chiseled face. He was dressed in robes of dark grey and ivory with a curved blade at his hip. "Who is this?"

"I am Orophin, your great uncle you never met," Orophin told him with a smile. His gaze flicked over to Coruwen. "You're right, nightingale. He does have your eyes and intelligence."

"I told you," Coruwen laughed. "He is a fine son."

Odin felt heat rise to his cheeks at the statement; his mother was bragging about him to others. He guessed even in death she would do it. The two elves returned up the steps and Thorin, Balin, Fili, and the other dark haired dwarf approached him. Odin had remembered Balin well from his youth, the dwarf had taught him many things and Odin saw him as his grandfather. However, the dwarf beside his father looked oddly familiar; in fact he looked an awful lot like his father in appearance. Their bearing and physical appearance were the same aside from one looking younger than the other.

"Odin, you're staring," Fili stated flatly. Odin snapped his attention to Fili, who chuckled at the sudden change. "That's our Uncle Frerin; he passed during the first battle against Azog."

"Oh," Odin muttered. He wasn't quite sure how to react around Frerin. He couldn't piece together words and began to play with Orcrist's pommel. He was overjoyed to see all of lost family all in one place, even the ones he had never met he was happy to see. His hand was ceased by his father's making his gaze rise up. "You believe that I will be able to rule over these halls?"

"We all do, lad. You are a descendant of Thror, and you learned from two great leaders," Balin told him with a smile. "That's got to count for something."

A gentle bell chime drew Odin's gaze to his mother, who was still holding on to Orophin's arm tightly but her eyes were shut tightly. He looked to his father, who seemed rather annoyed as his gaze flicked backward to his mother. Fili sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair as he started towards Coruwen. Odin's heart began to panic as the others started towards the two elves.

"What?" Odin mouthed as his eyes narrowed at the sight. His mother released Orophin's arm and took Thorin's hand before her eyes opened into half slits. "Mother, what is going on?"

Coruwen laughed a bit, stepping down towards him and placing her hand on his head gently. "Your foresight is dwindling, sweetheart. So, I leave with this piece of knowledge. Though you do not see us, we are with you along with every other soul that has passed within these halls. However, do not let our memory make you cling to old memories. There is one that will be your companion through hard times…"

Odin frowned causing a small laugh to come from his mother. She turned back, walking back to her place beside his father. The king's gaze began to cloud with blurs but he shoved it away.

"Odin, could you tell Kili something for me?" Fili asked as Odin's vision began to swirl with dark grey and amber making his eyes begin to hurt. He managed a nod through the pain. "Tell him not to fear any night anymore. He's sulking too much."

The king gave him a nod before his vision was clouded by infinite darkness. The pain in his head subsided but he dared not open his eyes again for fear of the strange pain to return. He sat up, finding himself in a dark room lined with fallen pillars and broken stone. His heart began to ache again when he realized that his foresight had made him a fool. Maybe Manwë wanted him to see his family one last time, but it didn't seem like they were truly there. No one else could claim that they saw them, and if he tried to tell someone they might think him a mad king…

Odin picked himself up, starting toward the higher levels again to tell Kili his brother's message with the hopes of him _actually_ listening. He began to wonder how long he had been down in the catacombs because Freya had returned from her hunting trip and Kili was nowhere to be found. He climbed steps towards Kili's room in the hopes of finding him, but instead found his dog sitting in front of his cousin's door. Odin gently knocked on the door, and what followed made him roll his eyes. A series of loud bangs and thumps like someone was running. Kili would forever be disorganized, the king thought in mild annoyance. The door opened revealing Kili with mussed hair and a panicked look in his eyes.

"Do I need ask?" Odin inquired with a smirk. Kili pursed his lips, but playfully swatted him before turning on his heel. "Wait a minute, Kili…"

Kili began picking up pieces of wood and throwing daggers. "What is it? I'm trying to clean my room," Kili said flatly.

"No, you're sulking," Odin pointed out, leaning against the door frame. Kili shot a dirty look back at him before muttering a few curses, at which Odin promptly cleared his throat reminding his cousin he was still present. "A little cat told me to tell you to no longer fear any night and to stop sulking."

Kili physically froze and his hands dropped their contents when he heard the words. Almost like a neglected automaton, Kili slowly looked back at him with his grief in his eyes. "That's impossible, how do you know that?" Kili asked.

"A little cat told me to tell you that, nothing more," Odin replied calmly before starting towards his grieved cousin. He gave Kili a gentle nudge on the arm before gripping his shoulder. "We all miss 'em, Kili. If you ever need me for anything; just ask."

"Do you think he felt it?"

Odin blinked in shock at the statement. Kili's face was downcast, his hair hanging in his eyes with a clear sorrow etched into his face. "I-I wouldn't know, but I suppose he felt the last moments before that knife cut him."

"Fili always was the more collected one out of the two of us. Without him, I feel kinda… Lost," Kili went over to a trunk and began to rifle through it. Odin watched as he stopped in his frenzy, and he stood holding a blue tapestry in his hands. It was one of the many that his mother had made during her free time. Set into a dark blue background was a golden lion with light blue eyes shining with proudly with a wreath of vermillion around its neck. "This was Fili's; a gift from your mother for the day he named Crowned Prince. I planned on taking it down to the catacombs one day; that is, if I can part with it. I feel like I failed my brother… I shouldn't have let him go out there…"

"Kili, there's nothing you could've done," Odin reminded him. Kili gripped the tapestry tightly as his shoulders shook with sorrow. "He wanted to protect Erebor…"

"I know…" He scoffed, "By Mahal I know that! I just… I just wanted to make sure he was always close to me. He's always been with me, you know. Even as children, I wasn't far from Fili and he wasn't far from me."

"What does Fear not this Night mean to you?"

"It was a saying in Belegost, or rather a song sung by the women there, but kids used to use it as a saying to not fear anything… It told someone that you were giving them hope and put aside all fear and worry," Kili explained. He gave out a humorless laugh before setting aside the tapestry. "That's why I'm surprised you knew what that meant."

"Well, I hope that we'll begin to mend the new scars we just received…"

"They should heal rather quickly… I mean, you _are_ king now."

Odin smiled faintly, "Aye, I didn't think I'd ever hear that… But it happened and now I am King under the Mountain."

Kili smiled, "You'll do fine as king… You just don't think you will."

"I have confidence that I will be able to be a great king like my father. Many say that I more his son than my mother's."

Kili chuckled and nudged Odin's shoulder playfully once more. "Your mother said something a few days after you were born; an elven saying but I think it came true."

"Which was what?"

"He is the son of storms, raised beneath the dragon's wing. He is the Allfather, a mighty king by birth." Kili let out a long sigh, running a hand across his face as he thought over the saying. "He is the son of a king; a prince."

Odin couldn't believe the saying for a moment, but then began to put the puzzle pieces into order. He smiled faintly before starting to turn towards the door where Fenrir lay. "Interesting," Odin murmured. "I am going to retire; so much went on today that it almost seems a tad unrealistic."

"Right, thanks for giving the cat's message. Whoever the cat is," Kili chuckled. Odin whistled for Fenrir as he left his cousin's room and made his way to his own. He opened the door, allowing Fenrir in first. He set Orcrist down, leaning against the wall as he thought over the statement that his mother had made a few days after his birth. The statement came true…

He was destined to become King under the Mountain after his father. He was meant to lead these people and aid the Lake-Men. He was the son of two great leaders, moreover the son of a king. He mentally chuckled at the thought of such a title, his newest title had not yet settled into his mind making him slowly laugh. Fenrir placed his head in his master's lap allowing him to rub his ears gently.

"I am the King under the Mountain now, Fenrir," Odin whispered. "I suppose I am more like my father than I think I am. People have been saying it for years that I was his son, and I never listened; yet here I am now a king…" Fenrir licked his palm letting out a whine. "And _you_are the king's hound, my Fenrir. First of his name…"

Fenrir let out a deep bark, his tail wagging happily at his master's happiness. Odin let out a sigh before standing. His mind wandered off to his family that silently watched over him from the Halls of Waiting. At least he was no longer alone, he thought. After all, he had his best friend and cousin as his advisors, he had a woman he cared for, and his life was no longer as hectic as it once was… The prince that was forced to take charge of his people delivered what many thought he could not, and became the leader of this great race with guidance. And through the years, Odin, son of Thorin, would be of the greatest kings to ever ascend the throne in the Lonely Mountain's halls.

* * *

_**A/N: Holy last chapter Batman, it's done! I know I said a few chapters last chapter, but my hard drive decided to be a jerk and dump itself! I was not very pleased after said incident. So, I am sorry if this seemed rushed or I made you cry because I did when I wrote this up this morning.. **_

_**Without further ado, please review and tell me what you loved in all of this crazy madness! **_


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